


The Performer

by lavenderjacquard



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, Banter, Betrayal, Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Drama, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Jerks to Lovers, Lies, Mutual Pining, Original Character(s), Past Sexual Abuse, Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2020-11-07 15:50:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 106,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20819870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderjacquard/pseuds/lavenderjacquard
Summary: Katrine Casimir, former Mitras ballerina and present Cartography Unit Captain, would rather discover what's beyond the Walls than do what she's ordered.  But when she's commanded to investigate the Wall Cult with the man who betrayed her, the one she was stupid to fall for, Katrine must find out why the Cult is stealing children while risking her life intertwining with his again.





	1. Chapter 1

_ Year 850: Three days after the attack on the 57th Expedition _

Winter suited Katrine, which was why she was loath to leave Utopia behind.

The letter bidding her return, written and signed by Commander Erwin himself, was brief. There was nothing in it of note, simply one sentence demanding that Captain Katrine Casimir report immediately to Stohess District along with all accompanying Cartography Unit soldiers. Dry and brusque, as usual. She rolled her eyes after reading it and tossed it on the table where her three subordinates panted for the news. They rushed to grab it, squabbling over who could read it first.

The enclosed tea-stained and smudged missive in sloppy handwriting was no more enlightening.

_ K, _

_ You would not  _ _ believe _ _ what we’ve found out about Titans!! _

_ -H _

The underline tore through the page. She refused to let it pique her interest.

“Katrine, we’re finally going back to the Scouts! I’m so excited, I’ve been dying to see everyone!” Mila, her youngest squad member, sprang from her chair and grinned at her. “We’ll get to see that boy who can turn into a Titan!” Her earnest expression did little to lighten Katrine’s sour mood.

She tapped her nails on the table. “Right,” she said noncommittally.

The happy look turned quizzical. “Aren’t you excited?” 

“I haven’t decided yet.” The room was suddenly boiling, and the fireplace had doubled in size when she wasn’t looking.

Mila turned to the tall blonde woman sitting beside her. “Elisabeth, aren’t you looking forward to seeing your brother again?”

Elisabeth raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think he’ll have time for me.” She pursed her lips, and Katrine hoped she didn’t look as nervous as Elisabeth did.

“Sheesh! You people are miserable.” Mila wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Am I the only one ready to return to humanity again? I’m sick of this snow!” 

“I am, Mila.” Sara rose and put her arm around Mila, who pouted. “Ladies, let’s go pack. You know Katrine likes to wallow alone.” She threw Katrine a serene smile.

“Watch out, I’ll smack you for that,” Katrine said, but didn’t meet her eyes. She considered the two letters before her, hand obscuring her mouth.

“Be careful with that pondering, you’ll ruin your face. I assume we’re leaving soon?”

Katrine drew her hand away and inspected it for red smudges. It was trembling. “Glad you’re still looking out for me. In two days’ time. Just to warn you, the mayor will want to send us off.”

Mila gagged. “That man is such a pig! Haven’t you seen the way he looks at us?”

“Nobody died from a lecherous stare, Mila. You can learn to use that to your advantage. Where do you think all our nice tea and wool came from?”

Mila folded her arms and huffed. “I know, but I don’t like it.”

The women left the room, and once she couldn’t hear their footsteps Katrine sighed and leaned back in her chair, covering her eyes with her hands. She knew this would happen eventually, and had thought about it extensively in an attempt to prepare herself, but it all felt useless now. She didn’t want to go back to the pageantry of the command hierarchy, the uniforms and bright-eyed recruits. Most of all, and she’d spent so long trying to bury it in the recesses of her mind, she did not want to look at, or speak to, or even be in the same room as him. She’d put so much distance between them, and for what? Only to be back in that same painful and humiliating situation again?

Drained, Katrine stood and shoved her chair back with an angry squeal. She walked to the large window and took in the view. A new layer of snow blanketed Utopia, and in the dark it appeared fresh and clean. She would miss that about this place: the fact that every few days, a snowstorm would come and hide everything broken and dirty with a thick white layer.

She opened the door to the balcony and took a deep breath. The frigid air refreshed her lungs and the bone-chilling temperature caused her muscles to contract and twinge. She slapped her thighs and brought her right leg up to the ledge of the balcony, straightening her knee and pointing her toes. One downside to Utopia was that the cold weather was terrible for keeping her muscles loose and limber, but there were plenty of fireplaces to fix that up.

Bowing her chest towards her lifted leg, Katrine felt the familiar tug in the back of her thigh. Ever since coming to Utopia she found herself remembering Mr. Kaiser and Act IV of the ballet  _ Menagerie of the Seasons _ , where one dancer performed “The Winter Storm.” “Be the storm! You are a force, a gale of wind, you freeze men to death! No, no, the winter storm does not allow her knee to  _ bend  _ in her arabesque!” She’d laughed when she thought of him crowing at the other girls about hailstorms when she was certain that neither Mr. Kaiser nor any of the girls had ever seen a real snowstorm, like what happened in Utopia. Mr. Kaiser would hate it here; he'd cringe at the perpetually muddy streets and unwashed civilians. All the better to be far away from him, too. 

“Katrine, why don’t you want to go back?”

Broken from her memories, she turned to find Mila. She had that infuriatingly concerned look on her face where she furrowed her brow and bit her lip. Girls her age should be self-absorbed and not concentrating on problems that were not their own. Katrine stared at Mila, unblinking, and shrugged. She didn’t feel like explaining herself.

“You know, you’re going to catch a cold standing out here without a coat,” Mila said.

“It was too hot inside.”

Mila joined Katrine at the balcony and gazed at the city. Katrine dropped her right leg, shifting herself away from Mila, and repeated the exercise with her left. The two were quiet, but Katrine could feel Mila’s concerned eyes probing her face.

“It’s because of Captain Levi, isn’t it?” Mila asked.

Heat flaring in her chest, Katrine swung her leg off the balcony and jabbed a finger at Mila’s chest. “Who told you?” She immediately regretted revealing herself.

“Ah, um, Sara did, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“I swear on everything that is good and holy within these walls I will kick her in the teeth, and all of you will watch me do it.” 

“I mean, she didn’t say what happened, um, we don’t know what happened, uh, I’m really sorry, please don’t be angry at us, Katrine, we’re just worried…” Mila trailed off, face red.

Katrine felt both embarrassed and relieved. “Nothing happened. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“But, are you sure-”

“One more word and I’ll throw you in the snow!”

Despite the fact that she was a head taller than Katrine, Mila pursed her lips and turned away. They were silent for a few awkward moments, until Mila turned her probing gaze back to her. Katrine focused on the cold snowflakes melting on her scalp and refused to meet her eyes. 

“If you need someone to talk to…” 

“Nothing to talk about. Hey, let’s go for a walk. I doubt we’ll see this place for a long time, so better give it a proper goodbye, right?”

* * *

The two walked down the empty streets, the first footprints in the new snow. Utopia was desolate after nightfall, especially after such a violent storm. People tended to find places to burrow.

The light of the streetlamps fell on Katrine, turning the ash-blonde braid slung across her shoulder the shade of copper. She stopped and threw her head back into the light, squinting. Lolling her head, face appearing gaunt and jaundiced, she peered at Mila.

“I’m going to bury myself in this snowbank and then no one will find me. I’ll never have to leave.”

“You sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.”

They passed the administrative building, a tiny single-story wooden cabin. It was a far cry from the grand and structurally sound buildings that stood in the more populous southern districts. Sure, Utopia was lacking in elegance and the only positive thing Katrine could say about their clothes was that they were warm, but the people here were kind and always wanted to listen to stories about the Scouts’ expeditions, despite her tendency to embellish with unnecessary tangents and snappy one-liners no one actually said.

Katrine and Mila turned a corner and found Sara’s favorite bar nestled in deep snowbanks. A group of Garrison soldiers stood on the porch shivering in thin coats, smoke wafting around them. They were silent besides the occasional cough. Their brows were heavy and their eyes shadowed; from Katrine’s vantage, they looked like breathing corpses. 

Hearing their footsteps, the group turned. One scowled and threw his cigarette to the ground, squashing it with his boot.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here,” he said, a dark green bottle clenched in one hand.

“This the one who stole your wallet?” another asked.

“Yeah. Right after payday too.” The man began to lumber toward her.

_ I swore he was too drunk to notice! What was his name? Dirk? Derrick? _ She grit her teeth, racking her brain for the name.

“Again?” Mila whined.

“Darren, man, calm down. The captain’ll kill us for this.”

She seized it and her mouth opened before the thoughts even began to form. “I’m so sorry, Darren, I’m sure this is a huge misunderstanding. I remember you, from Thursday, right? You told me about how you were stuck working on the tunnel to the iceburst mine? And you just about wanted to die?” She laughed. “You were so funny. I would have loved to see you again, you know, but I won’t get that pleasure.” She smiled and fluttered her lashes for good measure. In reality, Darren had knocked down two glasses of whiskey in quick succession, assaulted her with his hot breath, and kept touching her thigh with his massive and sweaty palm. The two small bills she’d found in his wallet were not worth the effort.

Darren halted.

“Your mother kept writing to you asking when the damn Scouts were gonna finish killing the Titans up here and let you finish the work! I will take that account into consideration, I promise.” She widened her blue eyes and brought a light hand to her heart.

“Yeah,” Darren said, his expression turning addled. He seemed to be considering whether someone who was kind enough to remember all that could possibly be a cruel thief. 

He took another step forward, more wobbly this time. “Why’d you say you won’t see me again?”

“Oh, the Scouts called us back. Typical bureaucracy, you know?” She shrugged.

The dim look on his face hinted that he didn’t understand the word, but his lips curled into a smile. Now that he was close enough to see, Katrine noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead.

“You never mentioned your pretty friend.” The yellow light ginted off his teeth and her hackles rose. Before he hadn’t been a threat. She could almost feel the shudders bouncing off of Mila cowering behind her.

“We actually need to prepare for leaving, you wouldn’t believe the mountain of paperwork I have to do,” Katrine said evenly.

Darren ambled closer. “Ladies, ladies,” he said, a cloud of foul breath vaporizing at her face. “It’s so cold out, I know just the thing that’ll warm you up.” He clamped a heavy hand on her shoulder. The force of it caused her to slide back a bit in the snow. 

Tolerance broken, the knife was out of Katrine’s waistband and at the soft meat of Darren’s elbow before he could blink. “Get your hand off me or I will shove this down your throat.”

"The hell-"

“Hey, hey,” Darren’s companion said. “Calm down.” 

Mila whimpered behind her.

Motionless, Katrine eyed the bottle in Darren’s hand, measuring the amount of liquid available and the strength of his grip on the neck. It looked loose enough to try. Lunging forward, she scraped the knife against Darren’s skin while snatching the bottle with her free hand. As she spun towards him, she aimed the neck of the bottle towards him and splashed whiskey in his eyes. 

Darren let out an awful screech, yelped and clawed at his face.

Snapping to attention, Mila grabbed Katrine’s arm. “Come on!”

The two sprinted away, puffs of hot breath trailing them, as the other men surrounded Darren and brought clumps of cold snow to his eyes. Once sufficiently far but within earshot, Katrine skid to a stop and turned to face them, hand cupped to her mouth.

“Hey, Derrick!” She pulled a coin out of her pocket. “Next round’s on me!” She threw it in their direction, cackling at her own joke.

“Stop, Katrine!” Mila tugged her around the corner of the next building and forced her into a jog.

“It was funny!” Katrine whined. “I wanted to see their faces!”

“I’m not letting you get kicked again!”

They ran back to their barracks, lungs burning from exertion and the cold air. The houses they passed were dark, but Katrine felt heat emanating from them. She knew the inhabitants of Utopia were buried under their blankets, asleep, unconcerned with anything beyond the walled enclosures they called home. Everywhere she looked Wall Rose was visible, towering over her like bars of a prison. No, at least in a prison she could look outside. It was the same in every district, the same mindset that the walls protected instead of trapped.

When they reached the barracks, Mila sank into a squat, wheezing. Sweat beaded at her forehead, soaking into the dark flyaways sprouting from her braid. Mila styled her hair the same way Katrine did, a never-ending source of pride since mimicry truly was the sincerest form of flattery. Katrine felt a twinge of guilt for dragging her into a mess of her own making. But, the girl was a strong runner and a quick thinker, so it wasn’t a detriment to have her available. No, not a girl. Mila had seen her share of Titans and lived. Katrine gave her a smile and helped her up.

Inside, they stripped off their winter layers and sat to warm their stiff hands at the fireplace. Katrine watched the flames, unblinking, and pressed her thin lips into a thinner line, making them nearly invisible. She’d already forgotten about the Garrison soldiers.

“I can’t believe I have to be the one scolding you, again, but you really need to stop stealing people’s money,” Mila said. “And you pulled a knife on that man! What if he was a Garrison commander?”

Katrine waved her hand dismissively. “He had a foot and sixty pounds on me, I couldn’t do that much damage. That knife’s just for show.” 

“Yeah, but that money buys bread.”

“It’ll also buy me a new dress, which I think is a much better use.”

Mila sighed. “I’m sure he didn’t deserve it. I can’t blame him for being angry.”

“Consider it teaching him a lesson on underestimating me. Or the Scouts, for that matter, if it makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t.”

Katrine flopped onto her back, throwing her hands into the air with a flourish. “Oh, my darling Mila, I am so terribly remorseful for my actions this evening, and I am a horrible captain for allowing my exceedingly beautiful and most talented subordinate face danger.” She sniveled and swiped at her eyes. “I am aware that my actions are unforgivable, and I will live with that shame for the rest of my life, but I pray you, tell me whatever I can do to redeem myself and earn back your favor.” She trilled the words of her monologue and brought her hand to her forehead, writhing in imaginary pain.

“Stop, stop!” Mila collapsed too, snickering. Suddenly she gasped, grinned, and turned to Katrine. “I know what you can do to make it up. You can tell me what you did that makes you so scared of going back.”

Katrine wrinkled her nose. “I’m not scared. Sometimes I think you’re too smart for your own good.”

“I promise, it’ll feel so good to let it out.”

“I really don’t think it will.”

Mila frowned. “Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, and you’re going to give me that terrible pitying look, and I hate when people pity me.”

Mila said nothing. Katrine sat up and curled her knees towards her chest, avoiding her pointed look by staring into the fire. The heat tickled her eyes, threatening tears. She closed them to halt the onslaught. 

“Did you know I turn thirty tomorrow?” It was a bad diversion, but Katrine hoped it might work.

“You’re thirty and I’m more mature than you?” 

Katrine slapped her shoulder. “I’m still your superior. Twenty push-ups!” 

“Ouch!” Mila rubbed her arm but ignored the order. “What are you going to do for your birthday?” 

“I’ll be generous and not hold that comment against you. I’m going to explore the caves at the Rhein River. The maps here are terrible, so I should probably help them out and update them. I'll show them to you, the drawings on them are ridiculous-”

“Hey, you’re changing the subject.” 

Katrine gave a dramatic moan. She didn’t want Mila to think less of her. It had been so long since someone else looked at her with admiring eyes, modeled herself after her, and thought she was brave and smart and worthwhile. Now that it had happened again, she was going to do it right. But maybe it would feel good to let it out. If anything, she could warn Mila not to repeat her own mistakes. 

She laid back down and brought the crooks of her elbows over her face to conceal her eyes. Then she began the story.

* * *

Katrine shielded her eyes from the sun’s glare reflecting off the icy sheet of snow. The vista before her was filled with varying shades of white and the solid expanse of blue sky. She took an energizing breath of the frigid air, allowing it to bite at her lungs, and held it for a moment, giving herself one moment of stillness before setting out. 

_ I’m going to miss this _ , she thought, heart sinking. In Utopia, no one questioned her when she went off alone into the wilderness in the early morning, beyond the wall, and didn’t return until sundown. Granted, the Titans in the north were few and far between, and generally more sluggish than their southern counterparts. The swift, freezing rivers also provided a natural protection against them since the subzero temperatures sapped the Titan's energy. Though she hadn’t observed too many Titans and their reactions to falling in the water, she thought they exhibited the same symptoms of hypothermia as humans did, including shuddering, disorientation, and immobility. Of the few things to look forward to in returning, she was excited to tell Hange about the discovery.

However, studying Titans was not the reason for her excursion, and rarely the reason for any of them. Titans were a hazard, but not enough to keep her cooped inside the walls forever. There were things out there, things no one knew about and not hidden away in any book. Some Scouts dreamed of the sea or mountains that spit fire, and she wanted to see them too, but what she really needed to find were people. Specifically, in cities beyond the walls where their lives didn’t revolve around fear. They would have art, and beautiful stories, and abundances of everything they could ever want. There would be things in those cities that she could never dream of, and she was going to find them. Never mind the fact that she’d never found any promising leads in any of her solo expeditions. She would keep trying.

Those trips would be curtailed when she returned to the main corps. Too much paperwork to read, administration to please, and duties to attend. Besides, she’d had enough unauthorized outings beyond the walls that Erwin, that pretentious tyrant, kept too close of an eye on her. It was suffocating. 

Katrine exhaled forcefully. Her horse flicked its head back towards her, concerned.

“Ah, sorry. Time to go, I know.” She nudged the brown flank with her heel.

Her horse obeyed, hooves crushing the icy layer of snow. Urging it into a gallop, she aimed northwest, towards the deepest and swiftest river within a forty kilometer radius outside Utopia, the farthest she could reach on her own and still make it home before nightfall. The tattered map she’d consulted promised multiple caves alongside the river, though the old woman in the tiny library warned her against exploring them.

“Not good. Ghosts there.” The wizened, diminutive woman had squinted at Katrine and wrinkled her nose. “Very stupid girl.”

Katrine had snorted. “I don’t believe in ghosts. Do you have any more detailed maps?”

“No, no one go there!"

“Okay then, I’m gonna take this one. You don’t mind, right? The Scouts thank you for your generosity.” She turned to leave.

“Wait!” The crone shuffled to a desk littered with trinkets and musty books. She bent down and yanked at a drawer that groaned in protest; clearly it had not been opened in years. She pulled out what appeared to be a doll. It was an ugly thing, with straw poking out of its limbs and a threadbare brown dress covering its torso. Its ratty pale hair looked suspiciously like it came from a horse.

“You take. Protects. Looks like you, too!”

Katrine frowned, inspecting the object. The doll had the same color hair, but that was about it, unless she'd been vastly overestimating her appearance.

“What is this?”

“Someone left, many years ago. When I was this high!” She bent over to hold her palm at knee height and grinned a gummy smile.

“Thank you.” Not wanting to engage in more niceties or pretend to heed warnings, Katrine had pocketed the doll and left.

By the time the sun was high above her, Katrine reached the river. It was a behemoth compared to the others, and so rapid that the Utopians never went to fish there, preferring the slower and shallower ones. However, today the river was frozen over, a vast floor of glass before her. It seldom froze, but this specific time of year and the subzero temperatures the night before had given her a rare window to access the caves it guarded. She’d been waiting months to reach them and finally, she had her moment. Maybe luck was on her side after all.

She dug into her waistband and fingered the doll. She didn’t know why she decided to take it with her, as she’d never been a big believer in lucky charms. Possibly it was because the old woman had seemed so excited that she could finally give it to someone, after it had been forgotten in a drawer for ages. She still refused to believe it looked anything like her.

After consulting her map, Katrine led her horse to the rocky shore of the river where the slick sheet of ice began. She tied the horse to a spindly tree that glittered with drops of melting ice and fastened the ODM grapples to the stronger tree a few feet away. She’d have to be quick about this, since she had no idea how long the ice would last and if it was thick enough to support her weight. Taking a hesitant step to test the strength of the ice, she determined it was not going to break and took another. She kept both arms extended at her sides.  _ Shitty second position, sorry, Mr. Kaiser. _

Katrine shuffled across the ice, cables extending behind her, until she estimated she was close enough to the cave that she could grapple onto the rock. The river was so wide that she was nearly halfway across before she could even consider attempting it. She sank into a crouch to keep herself steady, fingers spreading on the ice. It was beginning to weep and her hands slid. No time to waste.

There would be only seconds to perform this action. The ODM gear was practical in so many ways, but being slow and delicate was not a feature. There was only one trigger to release the grapples, and the gear would immediately suck the cord and hooks back into their canisters. She was anxious that the unruly mechanics would cause a problem and leave her stranded, separated from violent, black waters by a few inches of ice.

Katrine pressed the trigger to release the grapples and the hooks dropped from the tree onto the shore and flew towards her. The hooks couldn’t keep themselves aloft and scraped across the ice, bouncing but otherwise leaving the ice intact. Her lungs burned and she forced herself to breathe.

Suddenly one grapple hit an uneven patch and ricocheted a few feet upwards. It crashed back into the ice, shattering it, and the hook disappeared into the dark water. The gear continued to pull the wire back into the canister, and it began to cut a thin line through the ice. Cracks splintered outwards as the unrelenting grapple barreled towards her.

Keeping one hand planted on the ice, Katrine grabbed the hilt of her sword with the other and severed the cable. The remnant of the wire whipped back toward the grapple, and with nowhere to go, the hook slowed to a stop and sank, dragging the cable with it.

The remaining grapple snapped into place at Katrine’s back, but without the force of the other to counter it, it sent her reeling forward. Her feet skidded to the left and the hand holding her balanced slipped on the melting ice. Unthinking, she brought her sword hand down hard to steady herself and punched through the ice. The jagged edge severed the thin cable connecting the sword hilt to her gear.

Katrine yelped, shocked. She’d never felt such abrupt and intense pain. Her fingers spasmed at the searing agony and flexed, releasing the sword. It too sank to a watery grave. She ripped her hand out of the water, but instead of bringing it behind her to steady herself, she extended both arms to her sides, parallel to the ice, and lifted her heels to balance on her toes. She would not risk smashing through the ice again and tearing a bigger hole. Fingers taut, she held the position until she was sure she could rise to her feet without breaking the ice. Or, as sure as she could be, with a sizeable hole beside her threatening to grow.

Ignoring her wet, throbbing hand, Katrine assessed the situation. One grapple, one sword.  _ Why’d I choose today to take only one set of cables? Mila told me to “let it out” and  _ _ that must have clouded my judgment. _ She huffed.  _ Imagine if I died, right here? H _ _ umiliating! Mila’d think I drowned because I was too afraid of him.  _ She tore off the soaked glove, swallowed her ire, and formed her plan.

The next half of the crossing would be easier since she could pull herself towards the rocky face assisted by ODM gas, but it would be an unwieldy trip using only one cable. She wasn’t terribly concerned about the possibility of a Titan, though fighting with one sword would not be ideal. The only remaining option was to go back, which was out of the question.

Taking a steadying breath, she slid a few steps away from the hole and shot her single grapple towards the cave. It made purchase on the rock and didn’t budge when she tugged at it. With the lightest touch of gas, the cable pulled her sideways and her boots skated along the ice. The going was tedious. She had to stop multiple times to avoid sharp bumps in the ice and suspiciously clear patches. After what must have been hours she reached the cave and groaned with relief when she stepped off the ice and felt the safety of hard ground. However, the sun was marching towards the horizon and she’d aimed to explore at least three caverns. The way things were going, she’d only have time for this one.

Katrine ventured into the cave and when she could no longer see sunlight, she pulled out the matches and dry twigs she’d collected days before and started a small fire to provide light and dry the wet glove. Frostbite would be a terrible souvenir to take from Utopia. She held her freezing hand over the flame, and the warming sensation was painful on her sensitive, raw skin. The delicate muscles screamed when she flexed her fingers. She stood and put her bare hand back into her waistband, touched rough fabric, and remembered the doll inside. With difficulty, she grasped it and pulled it out, scowling at it.

“Screw you, too!” She considered dropping it into the fire, but instead it slipped from her fingers when she noticed at the corner of her eye a strange shadow on the wall. No, not a shadow, but a crevice. There was a hole in the wall full of small rocks placed in an unnatural manner, surrounding a brown leather bag. The color of the bag and its withered appearance made it blend seamlessly with its surroundings, and since no one came near this river, she imagined that it could have sat abandoned for years. Decades, even. She stared, unmoving, waiting for the bag to disappear and prove it was all a figment of her imagination, but it didn’t. She was almost afraid to move forward and see what was in the bag, because maybe it was just some rotten food and not what led her to accept the assignment to Utopia in the first place. Part of the reason, anyway.

Katrine swallowed hard and forced her legs forward. The pain in her hand forgotten, she pushed the rocks aside and extracted the bag from its prison. The leather was cracked and peeling and its buckles caked with rust, but dry. Whoever had placed the bag in its crevice had the forethought to think of the river flooding in springtime. She knelt, pried the buckles open, and pulled out a hard object wrapped in a strange silky fabric. It released an herbal odor. She tore it away and found a book with a green cover and a picture embossed in black ink. It depicted what looked like a ship, but it was different than any ship she’d ever seen on the rivers in the districts. Those were lumbering, squat barges, while this looked angular and compact, with tall, triangular sails.

Careful not to damage it, she cracked open the book. The pages contained lines and lines of a beautiful handwritten script, unreadable and foreign. It looked nothing like the blocky characters she was used to reading. She couldn’t tell where the words began and ended; it looked like deliberate looping lines.

_ She was right. It does exist. _

Katrine wanted to stay longer and further study the book, but knew she had to get going before the sunlight vanished. She rewrapped the book in its fabric and placed it carefully in her pack, and then extinguished the fire and scattered the twigs to hide her presence. Pausing for a moment, she picked up the doll she had dropped before. She was relieved to have been wrong about its luck.

The return was easy since she knew what mistakes to avoid, and she arrived at Wall Rose right as the sun touched the mountains. She enjoyed her last Utopian dinner with her squad members; the normally bland food tasted warm and delicious. She listened to Mila’s incessant chatter about returning to the Scouts, laughed at Sara’s dilemma that she would miss Marlon the bartender but was equally excited to see Liam from Stohess, and made a joke about Erwin that even made Elisabeth crack a smile. Instead of spending the nighttime hours reading until her eyes burned, Katrine went to sleep early and stayed asleep.

For the first time since she could remember, when her mother visited Katrine in her dreams, she didn’t speak of the place where winter never ends. Instead, she embraced her only daughter.

* * *

It had been two days since she told Mila. Katrine did not feel any better.

She thought of his calloused hands as she packed her belongings, chasing away any thoughts of what the book meant. She saw his stormy eyes as she accepted the formal goodbye from the mayor and fluidly avoided his lips careening towards her cheek. She remembered his cutting last words to her as she mounted her horse and sped out the gate towards Stohess.

The cold wind whipped her hair and threw shards of ice in her face, but she didn’t shield herself. She ignored the mountains and forests and whatever they could be hiding and instead watched her horse’s hooves leave smudges on the road, marring the pristine white layer of frost. Another thing she’d destroyed.

The wound burst back open as if half a year had done nothing to heal it, and it threatened to split wider and swallow her as she galloped towards ruin again.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Year 850: Two days after the Invasion of Stohess District _

The orders to report immediately to Stohess District had apparently changed en route; Erwin was nowhere to be found, despite the fact that the district was swarming with Scouts. Being so close to the capital made Katrine claustrophobic, clawing her frayed nerves further. She tried to focus instead on the crumpled buildings and stones littering the streets. The setting sun gave them an unnatural reddish tint, like blood had been mixed into the cement. There were ominous dark stains on the pavement. It appeared as if an earthquake had struck the district, though according to the book she’d read last year,  _ Natural Disasters Within the Walls _ , the last measured earthquake was thirty-five years ago and barely did any damage. 

Katrine darted in and out of the offices of the Scouts’ compound, slipping around welcoming and chatty Scouts eager to hear about Utopia. Her unwillingness to socialize made Sara cranky.

“Katrine, I see Benjamin! I haven’t seen him in ages, can I go say hello? I promise it won’t be long-”

“No.”

“Why? I don’t even need to be in the room when you talk to the Commander. You always let me-”

“No.”

“You didn’t even answer me!”

“No!” This time Katrine turned to face Sara and gave her a menacing look.

“Fine.” Sara pouted and crossed her arms, shooting a glare back at her, but Katrine ignored it.

When Katrine finally reached a veteran’s office that was occupied, she slammed open the door, ambushing the man inside. The other women followed, sheepish.

“I was told Erwin was here and he ditched me, where the hell is he?”

The man jerked in his seat, and the young Scout beside him jumped. “You should have knocked, Captain Casimir.”

“Don’t have time for it, Jason, where’d he run off to?”

“That’s First Lieutenant  _ Mason  _ Zimmermann to you.”

“What a mouthful. I’ve asked twice now, where is he?”

The sandy-haired boy beside Mason swallowed so loud she could hear it. “Excuse me, you’re Captain Casimir? I have orders from Commander Erwin for you.”

Katrine wrinkled her nose. “Erwin sent a child to deliver my orders? That’s insulting.”

He bristled. “I’m not a child, I’m sixteen-”

“Commander Erwin left today for Ehrmich District,” Mason interrupted. “He was here this morning to meet with the mayor of Stohess District regarding the invasion by the Female Titan. The-”

“Wait,  _ what _ ? A Titan got into Stohess? How could that possibly have happened? That’s why there’s so much damage? And what do you mean by Female Titan?” Shocked, Katrine forgot her previous concerns. Her curiosity swelled.

“You didn’t know?” Mason asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“What did she look like? She, I mean, I can say ‘she’ instead of ‘it’? What could she do? How much damage did she do? How many people died? Was it like what happened in Shiganshina and Trost? I can’t believe it’s happened,  _ again _ !”

“Look, I don’t know all the details-”

“Sorry, sorry. But  _ wow _ .” She sighed in wonderment. 

The young man beside Mason hesitated before speaking again, as if bracing for another barrage. “Senior officers including Section Leader Hange and Captain Levi, along with members of the 104th Training Corps, have relocated to Ehrmich District.”

She ignored the dip in her stomach.

“They left this morning. Commander Erwin left me behind to escort you to Ehrmich,” he continued.

“Escort, by a child? That’s the order?”

“That’s what he said! I’m just doing what I’ve been told!” He narrowed his eyes and appeared to hold back his tongue. Katrine enjoyed watching his face betray his irritation.

“Okay, okay, you can have your moment to shine. What’s your name?”

“Jean Kirstein, ma’am!” He straightened and saluted Katrine with earnestness. She sighed and rubbed her forehead.

“Johan, why are they going to Ehrmich?”

“I don’t know. And, I apologize, but it’s Jean.”

“That’s just like Erwin, always keeping his cards close. I bet he’s messing with me. He likes to keep us guessing, right, Elisabeth?” Katrine turned to Elisabeth, who frowned and raked a lock of honey-blonde hair behind one ear.

“As your superior, I won’t have you speaking with such disrespect towards Commander Erwin, especially in front of a cadet.” Mason folded his arms and frowned at Katrine.

“How’s he gonna find out? And don’t use me on your power trip. Come on, Johan, we’re heading out.” She motioned to Jean and turned around to leave. Immediately she noticed Mila staring wide-eyed at Jean, her lips parted. Pink speckles dotted her cheeks. Katrine gagged.

She strode out of the building towards the stables, leaving Jean nearly running to keep up with her. When she noticed the setting sun, she halted. Jean skidded to a stop and nearly tripped over her.

“I apologize, Captain Casimir!”

“It’s Katrine. Did Erwin say to leave immediately, or wait until morning?”

“He said for us to leave as soon as you got here.”

_ So, it’s important _ . “What an asshole, he’s making us risk getting lost in the dark.”

“Well, at least there won’t be any Titans.” Sara touched her shoulder. Katrine registered the touch but remembered to not shake her off. “Here are the maps.” She pulled the worn rolls of paper from her pack.

“I know where I’m going. Let’s get the horses ready, I want to be out in a half hour.”

“But we won’t even have time to eat, or sleep! We’ve been riding all day!” Sara moaned and clutched her stomach.

“You can eat when you’re dead,” Katrine said.

“Not how it goes, Katrine,” Elisabeth said. A small smirk appeared on her normally stony face.

“Wow, guess you inherited the Smith family smarts as well! I would’ve never believed it.”

A scowl replaced the smirk.

When they reached the stables, Katrine ordered Jean to gather their horses and for Elisabeth and Sara to replenish their supplies. Before anyone had time to ask, Katrine grabbed Mila’s arm and pulled her outside and behind the stables. When out of earshot, she reached up and shook Mila’s shoulders. The enraptured look on her face had not dissipated.

“I saw you giving bedroom eyes to that boy. First, you’re three years older than him, and second, he’s a recent graduate. He’s drooling over getting direct orders from Erwin,” Katrine said. She twisted her face as if tasting something bitter.

Mila reddened. “I-I’m allowed to think he’s cute! Who says I’m going to do anything about it?”

“Your hormones do! And the kid looks like a horse.”

“No he doesn’t! Horses don’t have cheekbones like that!”

“Oh, you’re a poet now? It’s been what, fifteen minutes? Besides, it’s not a good idea to get involved with someone from the Scouts. Be like Sara and go for Garrison soldiers.”

“You’re one to talk!” Mila spat. Katrine froze for a second; Mila’s face showed immediate remorse. But Katrine broke the tension with a snort. She had no response to that.

“Well then, you can take it from me that it’s not a good idea. And I’m going to shove you in that horse shit, and then he’ll want nothing to do with you.”

Mila rolled her eyes.

* * *

The journey to Ehrmich was uneventful. Katrine had traveled to the district once many years before, and the memory of the topography and roads felt fresh in her mind as if it happened yesterday. During the journey she grilled Jean about the Female Titan, learning that a girl his age, another member of the 104th training corps, had been a Titan shifter. She had been discovered and cornered in Stohess, and had done considerable damage but was eventually stopped by the Titan controlled by Eren Jaeger. Katrine had read about the Jaeger boy from an official report sent to her by Erwin while in Utopia, which was one page long. There was obviously much more that Erwin knew about the shifter, because he would do anything in his power to learn more. Of all the things she disliked about the Commander, his thirst for knowledge was one she couldn’t fault.

Instead of taking the shortcuts she’d planned from maps of the area, Katrine decided to stick to the main road. She wanted the time to process all that had happened, so she would have an answer to every statement, question, or request from Erwin. And Levi, which she hated to admit, but better to be prepared. On the way to Stohess she’d considered every possible scenario she could imagine, and thought of questions to ask and barbs to throw. Levi got special treatment in her brain; she analyzed every insecurity. Unfortunately, there were few.

When the group arrived at Ehrmich, the sun had set hours ago, but the streets were flooded with people trudging towards the gate. A few exhausted Garrison soldiers were stationed there, attempting to corral the hoard into more manageable groups. The people looked ashen and filthy; they clutched at each other and said little. The only sounds were the shuffling of their worn shoes and the soft whimpering of children. Many of them had multiple layers of tattered clothing and shouldered large sacks. The last time Katrine had been to Ehrmich, the citizens had dressed smartly and for warmer weather. She knew something was amiss.

“Jean, why are all these people here?” Mila asked.

“I’m not sure. They certainly don’t look like they live here,” Jean said. He stared at the people, his eyes heavy with sympathy. Mila, however, looked displeased that Jean did not look back at her.

“Let’s go, Johan. Where’s Erwin?” Katrine asked.

“It’s  _ Jean _ .”

“That’s what I said. Do they keep you out of the loop too?”

Jean grit his teeth but held back whatever he was thinking. “The Scouts have been stationed at the Garrison headquarters. It’s back this way.”

“Lead the way, Johan.” Katrine smiled and waved him forward.

Jean pursed his lips and turned to walk towards the headquarters. The women followed, moving against the crowd. Katrine avoided their eyes and focused on their feet. Many of them wore shoes worn through at the toes, had bloody bandages wrapped around their feet, or had no coverings at all. There were deep scratches, broken toenails, and missing toes. When she saw the pair of bruised bare legs belonging to a young girl clutching her mother, she looked away and stared instead at Jean’s shoes in front of her.

When they reached the headquarters, Scouts and Garrison soldiers alike were racing about, clutching papers, weapons, and supplies. They were so engrossed in their tasks that no one noticed their entrance. Relieved at their invisibility, Katrine turned to a young Scout sifting through a pile of maps. She poked the girl’s shoulder and she looked up, face sallow and eyes dull. It was clear she was running on fumes.

“Hey, where’s Erwin?”

“Upstairs, first door on the right.” The girl pointed to the staircase. She turned back to Katrine and her eyes narrowed. “Wait, aren’t you-”

Katrine was already gone and bounding up the steps. Once she found the office she stared at the closed door for a moment and quieted every muscle. She pressed her lips together in a firm line, lifted her chin, and tapped one pointed toe on the floor in front of her. Ready. Inhaling sharply, she sprang open the door, slamming it behind her as she entered.

Erwin looked up from the desk covered in stacks of paper, a few feeble candles illuminating his writing. He was scrawling his missive with a weighted expression, as if the sun rising tomorrow depended on it. The haggard expression did not change when he looked at her.

“Katrine, good to see you’ve made it.” He didn’t comment on her unauthorized entrance.

“ _ Er _ -win! I’ve been pining for this moment for months. You look hale and hearty as usual, how  _ do  _ you do it?” She flopped into the chair facing him, uninvited, and gave him a wide, malicious grin.

Instead of responding, he finished the last sentence of the letter, blew on the ink to dry it, and folded it. Katrine felt the usual twinge of irritation that he didn’t chide her rudeness.

“I heard you let Stohess be invaded by a Titan shifter. That’s two now? You’re going to leave behind a great legacy for the history books. And they’re  _ both  _ in the 104th? Really, what did they put in the water over there?” Katrine rested her foot on the edge of his desk.

Erwin continued his work, rummaging around the desk for an envelope. He inserted the letter and dribbled a bit of wax from the candle to seal it.

“I apologize for the short notice. I hope the mission in Utopia will continue well enough without you?” he asked.

_ He’s deflecting. _ “Well enough, we’ve re-secured the underground path to the Eis Mine. We expect that the miners can resume extracting iceburst stone within the month. Though there were so few Titans, they barely needed us.”

“Excellent. I hear the cold weather can be very calming.”

_ The hell does that mean? _ “Invigorating, you should try it sometime.”

The two regarded each other; Katrine with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, Erwin with a distracted look.

“It’s been an eventful week, to say the least. I called your squad back after an intelligent Titan attacked the 57th Expedition. We’ve been referring to it as the Female Titan, since that’s what it appeared to be. She killed thirty soldiers. Luckily, we figured out her identity quickly, but when we trapped her in Stohess, she did not go willingly,” he said.

“I’ll say, I saw the damage. Though personally I think it would have been smarter to let her demolish Mitras instead of Stohess, but I’m not the commander.” She threw up her hands with a rueful expression.

Erwin inspected the seal on the envelope. “The woman controlling the Titan was stationed in Stohess. Besides, if Mitras was destroyed, then almost certainly our funding would be revoked, and I think that would be just as detrimental to you as it would everyone else.” He kept his neutral expression, face placid.

This was how every single goddamn conversation with Erwin went. Katrine would attempt to provoke him into saying something he regretted, or lose his temper at her, and it never worked. With every other Scout leader it was child’s play, but Erwin was a cold fish. He never got angry when she questioned his plans or criticized his decisions. Sometimes he entertained her outlandish schemes or explained why her criticism was warranted or not. He’d never even bothered punishing her for her disobedience; though many officers had given up on trying to beat a lesson into her, a few kept trying. For Erwin, it was because he was either too busy or he just didn’t seem to care. It deeply offended her.

Katrine would never admit she’d met her intellectual match in Erwin Smith, or even her superior. However, she realized that continuing to goad him was going nowhere. And this Female Titan sounded fascinating. 

Sighing, she leaned forward and rested her elbow on the leg perched on his desk. “So how similar is this Female Titan to the other sentient Titan you wrote to me about?”

Erwin leaned back in his chair and placed his arms behind his head. “They seem to have equal strength, but while Eren Jaeger is more than willing to cooperate with us, this Female Titan was defiant to the bitter end. In fact, instead of allowing herself to be captured, she encased her human body in some kind of glass or ice-like substance.”

“You should try lighting her on fire.”

“I’ll make sure that recommendation gets to Hange.”

Katrine also leaned back in her chair and put her arms behind her head, mirroring Erwin’s position. “You must be hurting if you need us delicate cartographers to help you.”

“I do need your subordinates, because Wall Rose has been breached.”

Katrine gawked, teeth set on edge. Her hands dropped to the arms of her chair and she threw herself forward, stomping her previously raised foot on the floor. “You decide to tell me this  _ now _ ?” She was livid; she hated not knowing what everyone else did. If she had the strength she would have broken his nose, but imagining that wasn’t calming her. Her knuckles turned white.

“We’ve received word that Titans have been spotted inside Wall Rose. I apologize for not telling you earlier, I only just found out,” Erwin said.

She narrowed her eyes. “And you don’t know where the breach is? It’s not in a district?”

“From the reports, it doesn’t seem so.”

Katrine was quiet for a moment, considering the situation. “So if this is similar to what happened in Trost, or five years ago in Shiganshina, it would have been the Colossal or Armored Titan, and those were in densely populated areas. If it were either of them, then why not attack another district? Why break the wall in the middle of nowhere?”

“I agree, it is strange. Though everything these intelligent Titans do is strange.”

“And the Scouts are going to be looking for this breach?”

“Correct.”

Katrine cocked her head. “You said you just needed my subordinates. You don’t need me?”

“Not for the mission to determine the severity of the breach. I need you for something else.”

That piqued her interest. “What’s this, then?”

“In Stohess, we took into custody a peculiar man by the name of Pastor Nick. He appears to be a high ranking official within the Order of the Walls. Hange is the one who apprehended him, so I’ll let her explain his motives, but he’s not been forthcoming on pertinent information. The Order seems to know more about the Walls then they’re willing to reveal, and I need to know this information. There’s a major church in Stohess called the Edelweiss Cathedral, which Nick appeared to be visiting at the time of the Titan attack. The church is still standing, and I don’t know if that’s fortuitous or suspicious.”

Katrine leaned back and steepled her fingers. “Intrigue! This is the most exciting mission I’ve had since you made me map north of Shiganshina. And that was a trip and a half.” 

For the first time in their conversation, Erwin smiled. “I knew you’d be willing.”

“I’m still going to tell everyone you twisted my arm like the bully you are. I assume I’ll be working alone?”

“Of course not, Levi is going to assist you.”

It took every ounce of concentration she had to prevent the muscles in her face from twitching. “I don’t need his help.” 

“You will, because this is a break-in. I don’t know what kind of security the Edelweiss Cathedral has, if any, and I’d prefer you not be arrested. Or worse.”

“The Commander of the Survey Corps is telling me to break into a holy church? I’ll be sure to blame you when the Walls rear up and smite me. Besides, won’t he be more useful in a mission to secure Wall Rose?”

“He injured his leg in the 57th Expedition.”

“So if he’s got a bum leg, he’d just slow me down.”

“If you run into trouble, I’m sure you’d want him on your side. Unless you’ve made improvements on your hand-to-hand combat?” He raised his chin a bit, amused.

Katrine brought a hand to her heart in mock offense. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. What’ll I be breaking in for?”

“That part I don’t know. Really, this is a shot in the dark to find whatever they’re hiding. Levi’s getting you in there, but you’ve got to find whatever they have written down and figure out what’s important. And whatever you find that’s important, I need you to memorize it and tell me exactly what it is, since I can’t risk you stealing papers and them noticing.”

Katrine was quiet. Despite the fact that a mission with Levi was going to be awkward as hell, she was intrigued by Erwin’s request. She’d always been fascinated by the Cult and the men who ran it, dressed in violet cloaks and heavy medallions portraying the women of the Walls, screaming about damnation. The only information on it in any book or newspaper she read came from puff pieces applauding the Cult’s beautiful sermons and apparent devotion to educating children, even orphans. If all went smoothly, she could just ignore Levi and find some good dirt to smear. It would be a fantastic distraction.

“You’d better hope these papers aren’t boring,” she said.

“I’m sure you’ll find something to hold your attention.”

Katrine reclined and gave a small laugh, shaking her head. “I guess I can’t pretend to refuse now, can I? Though I want my women with Nanaba.”

“She’s investigating the breach at the moment, so they’ll be under Ranking Officer Keiji.”

She snorted. “He’s a moron. Only Nanaba would do it right. If they come back with any hair on their beautiful heads out of place, I will singe every shirt you own.” As she spoke, Erwin bent down to locate something in his desk drawer and didn’t even look at her. She made an ugly face at the top of his head, but quickly composed herself when he lifted it again.

“Levi, Hange, and the priest should still be in the stockroom. You can meet up with them now and leave tomorrow morning. It is getting rather late.” Erwin looked at his watch and frowned as if he was expecting it to be hours earlier. He then stared directly at Katrine, his blue eyes boring into her own. She felt the hair on her arms prickle, but she refused to avert her eyes, no matter how uncomfortable that stare made her. Erwin had a strange way of making her feel like every thought running through her mind was printed on her forehead. She felt like the books she fingered at the library and picked at random to flip through, taking their secrets with no resistance.

“I don’t mean to overstep, but you will be able to work with Levi without any concerns?” His voice was measured. It was a question disguising a command.

Katrine flared her nostrils. “Of course, there is absolutely nothing to be concerned about.” She stood, the nervous energy causing her to nearly bounce out of the chair. When she scraped her chair back to leave, she made sure it was loud and screeching. She walked across the office to the door, but paused with her hand on the knob and turned to face Erwin again. He was gazing out the window at the crush of people, no end to them in sight.

“Erwin. Why’d you send a child to deliver your orders?”

Erwin turned. “Jean Kirstein? The fact that two Titan shifters were part of the 104th cannot be ignored, so I sent him into a stressful situation. If he ran into trouble and shifted, then I’d have someone there to handle it.”

Katrine hissed. “You heartless asshole. What would you’ve done if I died fighting the Horse Titan?”

“Like I said, you’d have handled it.” He went back to rummaging through his desk, refusing to entertain her dramatics. Katrine curled her lip, simultaneously thrilled and infuriated by their conversation. Seeing Erwin’s head bent, crouched over the desk drawer, she noticed he looked oddly small. She knew with everything that had happened in the last few days, he had an immeasurable weight on his shoulders, but she had no sympathy for him. He’d accepted the job, after all. She’d been forced into hers.

Katrine turned and opened the door, but stopped when she heard Erwin stand up behind her. The wood floor creaked beneath him, but it really could have been the sound of his joints groaning in exhaustion.

“Tell Elisabeth I said hello,” he said.

“Too busy you can’t tell her yourself?” She exited without closing the door.

* * *

Katrine found her subordinates and Jean waiting in the hallway. By their artfully slouched positions and inability to look her in the face, Katrine knew they had been listening at the door.

“Jean, I have a mission for you.”

He brightened. “Yes, Captain Casimir!”

She brought her hands to her cheeks and dragged them down, exposing the whites of her eyes and letting her mouth gape open. “I said it’s Katrine. This has been the longest day of my life and it won’t be over anytime soon.”

Jean took a step back and brought a hand to his neck. “Cap- uh, Katrine, what do you need me to do?”

“Do you know where the stockrooms are?”

“Oh, yes, please follow me.” Jean turned on one heel and descended the stairs. The women trailed him, Katrine at the rear. She disregarded the pressure in her stomach that had been growing at a cancerous rate when she learned she would not only have to see but work with Levi again. 

Jean led them out of the building, which spit them onto the main road. It was still congested with people she now realized were refugees, reeking with the sour stench of fear. Katrine tuned to Jean for directions, not wishing to make eye contact with any of them. He pointed to a squat gray structure a few buildings away from them. “The stockroom is that one over there.” There were Scouts swarming around the entrance, some leading horses and others carrying supplies. One turned back towards the inside and shouted, “Yes, right away, Section Leader Hange!”

Katrine grimaced. “Jean?”

“Yes, Katrine?”

“Is there a back way into this building?”

“I think so, if you go around back there’s an entrance to a hallway that’ll lead you to the main stockroom. But I think Section Leader Hange and Captain Levi are right there.”

“Jean, please don’t tell anyone this, but I get incredible anxiety around crowds. It makes me so claustrophobic. Sometimes I even start hyperventilating, and one time I even puked on somebody very important. I’d rather go through the quieter way. Please, Jean, I need your help.” She gave him a small, embarrassed smile and placed one hand gently on his forearm. Jean froze at her touch, and she could feel the gears grinding away in his brain. The poor boy would do the right thing.

“Yes, Captain Casimir! This way, please!” He turned and marched towards the rear of the building.  _ All little boys want to be knights in shining armor _ , she thought, and she turned to her subordinates with a knowing smile. Sara looked amused while Mila had a gutted expression.

“Sorry!” Katrine mouthed to Mila, shrugging, and followed Jean.

When they reached the back of the stockrooms, Jean opened the back door and turned to the women, but they were grouped in a small huddle, whispering. 

“What are you-”

Sara turned and held a finger to her lips. “Shh!”

Katrine pulled the small silver pocket mirror from her waistband and opened it to inspect her appearance. Wetting her thumb with her tongue, she smoothed back the small tendrils that had escaped her braid. She inspected her bright red lipstick, checking for any flaky bits or smudges on her teeth. She had to be perfect. The others waited patiently; they were used to it. 

Few understood why she made the effort to paint her lips when the Scouts’ jobs were steeped in dirt, sweat, and death, but that was all the point she needed. It disarmed people. It gave them an initial impression of her that she would later shatter. Most of the Scouts, besides the new ones, had finally stopped questioning her about it.

Besides, old habits were hard to break.

“Katrine, lemme see!” Mila grabbed the mirror out of her hand and inspected her own hair. The young woman, tall and gangly with dark hair and plump lips, would never be mistaken as Katrine’s younger sister. Still, Mila copied her braid and wished she could do the same with the lipstick, which she forbade.

Katrine took back the mirror and tucked it back into her waistband. She shrugged apologetically to Jean and motioned him into the building.

They slipped through the back entrance and down a dark hallway. When they turned the corner and encountered a doorway illuminated with light, Katrine stopped the group. She held a finger to her lips and crept forward, listening to the voices within. The only familiar voice was Hange’s, probing and dynamic, but the rest were unfamiliar. She didn’t hear Levi’s, but she knew he was there.

The familiar grip of anxiety began to snake through Katrine’s muscles, beginning in her feet and creeping to her thighs. It happened every time she’d performed at Mitras Company, but then she’d always been prepared and could do the steps backwards if needed. Here, she had no plan to follow, no choreography to guide her, and even though she’d thought of multiple scenarios and snappy responses to each, something unforeseen could always happen. She’d have to trust her own mind.

Katrine pinched herself to stop the racing thoughts and decided to commit. Plan set, she nodded to herself and turned to Jean. 

“Now, Jean, remember I told you I had a mission for you? Here it is.” She leaned her head back to stare directly into his eyes, trying to mimic the serious look of a leader. Jean’s eyes widened.

“You’re going to run in there, and you’re going to declare that Commander Erwin has ordered you to tell them that Captain Katrine Casimir of the Cartography Squad has arrived and is currently discussing very important matters with the good Commander.”

His eyes revealed confused. “Huh? Why?”

“I need a good lead. I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“But...I don’t understand. You’re lying.”

“The only thing you have to understand is that you should never underestimate the power of a good entrance. If your timing is off, or you enter when the conversation is wrong, then you’ll just look a fool.” She raised her hands, staring at him as if he were a child slow to understand a simple concept. 

“Please forgive my asking, but why do we want to wait? Isn’t time of the essence?”

“Good entrances need precision. Precision can’t be rushed.” She brought a finger to her lips, thoughtful. “You know, that’s a good idea. Tell them that Captain Casimir will report to the stockrooms immediately afterwards to rendezvous with senior officers, as she knows time is of the essence. You can pronounce that word correctly, right? Rahn-day-voo?”

Jean bristled. “Of course I know that word.”

“Marvelous. Off you go!” With a sweeping gesture she motioned towards the doorway. Jean looked back at the others for assistance, but they avoided his pleading eyes.

“Run!” she whispered. Jean grimaced and ran towards the doorway, disappearing into the light.

“Excuse my intrusion! Commander Erwin has ordered me to inform you that Captain Katrine Casimir has arrived in Ehrmich and is meeting with the Commander now! She will rendezvous with you shortly!”

Katrine beamed. He was perfect. No matter that he forgot to mention the Cartography Squad bit, that kid had a future as an actor.

There was a squeal of delight. “Katrine! Oh my God, I haven’t seen her in ages! She’s going to die when she hears about all the things we’ve learned on Titans this month.” It was Hange. Katrine exhaled with relief. She could always depend on Hange.

“She needs to hurry the hell up.” It was Levi. Ignoring the fact that her stomach had migrated to her throat, Katrine turned towards the other women and made a gagging motion. Mila giggled and Sara clamped one hand over her squadmate’s mouth. Elisabeth was stone-faced as usual.

“Don’t be rude, Levi. It’s always nice to see an old friend again. Doesn’t happen frequently in our line of work.”

“Who’s Captain Casimir?” An unfamiliar voice spoke up. It was light and inquisitive.

“Katrine Casimir is the captain of the Cartography squad. They explore and map out the hard-to-reach areas,” Hange said.

“Really? There’s a special squad for that? I didn’t know that,” the light voice said. It had an excited tone.

“Yes, they were sent to the Utopia District on a special mission about six months ago,” Hange said. Katrine nodded; that explanation was acceptable.

“It wasn’t a special mission, it was Erwin throwing the government a bone. They get more iceburst, we get more funding,” Levi said.

Katrine pressed her fingers down on her eyebrows to give her eyes a dark and sunken appearance to mimic Levi. She turned to her squadmates and gave them a sneer. Mila continued to giggle and tears leaked from her eyes. Sara was beginning to have a hard time keeping her hand over Mila’s mouth. Their reactions were thankfully mollifying the anticipation swirling through her, if only just a bit. If she could make his looming shadow appear smaller to her squad members, then it could work for her, too.

Hange sighed. “Since that squad was made a year ago they’ve only lost one solider. That’s better than any of us can say.”

“That squad just avoids Titans. Katrine can barely kill a Titan on her own,” Levi said.

Hearing that, Katrine motioned to the women and crept forward. The perfect moment was about to arrive.

“The explosion of the coal mine near Yarmin killed more Titans at once than anyone else ever has,” Hange said.

“Wait,  _ she  _ caused that explosion?” an unfamiliar female voice asked.

“That was luck. She’s maybe killed two Titans by herself,” Levi said.

“I’m at three now, actually,” Katrine said as she strode into the room. The occupants regarded her with varying expressions. She kept her head high, shoulders relaxed, pace measured. Whatever words were in their mouths died when she entered, and all eyes were on her. The entrance was perfect.

She looked around the room, gauging who was there, not letting her eyes settle on one person for too long. There was Hange, Levi, and five young soldiers, including Jean. The way he stood with them indicated he knew them, and she assumed they were also from the 104th.

Hange nearly knocked over the lantern on the table illuminating her reports when she rushed over to greet her. “Katrine! I missed you. I’m so sorry you never got a chance to see Sonny and Bean, I really wanted you to meet them,” she said as she wrapped her arms around Katrine, engulfing her in the scent of multiple days’ worth of sweat. 

“Oh my God, Hange, what I did I tell you about the  _ touching _ .” Katrine pushed her away but smiled. She’d missed Hange’s deranged energy.

“Your timing is shitty, as usual,” Levi said. 

_ Calm, calm, I am so calm right now. _

She turned to face him. “Some poor critter has lodged itself far up your asshole. As usual.”

The first time looking at Levi in six months was just about as unnerving and electrifying as she’d anticipated. He looked about the same as she remembered, still hard-eyed with a surly expression, but the way he leaned against the wall made it clear favored his left leg. He wasn’t in the regular Scouts uniform, but his own suit, the same jacket draped over his shoulders that years ago she’d helped repair a seam in the lining. The back of her throat prickled at the memory, and she felt woefully underdressed in her scratchy Scout jacket that needed to be washed weeks ago.

He actually looked handsome and she hated that she noticed.

“You look fancy. We’ve got a hot date with a priest,” Katrine said, cocking her head towards Hange. “Speaking of, where is Humanity’s Holiest?”

“Sent to bed. We’re discussing things he doesn’t need to hear. And we’d actually be discussing them if you hadn’t interrupted us,” Levi said.

“So-o-o-rry. I’m sure these discussions were absolutely scintillating. Absolutely no need for me or anything I’ve learned these past few months, huh, Hange? I’m completely useless.” She turned to Hange, hoping for a little backup, but Hange had returned to her report as if she wanted to let them duke it out themselves.

“You’re just about as useless as that hair you refuse to cut.”

“You should never criticize a woman’s appearance, Levi. Though I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know.”

A brown-haired girl from the recruits clapped a hand over her mouth. The others exchanged uncomfortable glances, wondering what to do if two Scout leaders lunged for each other’s throats right in front of them.  _ Perfect _ , she thought. She loved undermining his authority.

Levi opened his mouth to respond but Katrine turned to the recruits and immediately cut him off. “I apologize for my manners, I seem to have left them up in the tundra. I’m Katrine. Now, which one of you is the Titan? Was it Eric Jaeger?”

None of the recruits spoke.

“Cut the shit, Katrine, you know his name.” She could feel the daggers at her back. 

The boy with brown hair and green eyes stepped forward. “Me. I’m Eren Jaeger.” He had a strange duality to his face that unsettled Katrine. Part of it seemed earnest, eager to be given a command and to follow through. The other part, not visible in his expression but lurking in his eyes, seemed vicious, intense, and bloodthirsty. It was ready to roar out of him and tear apart anything standing in his way. Katrine had never seen anything like it on any human face before. It was because his pupils were too large, too black. The dim light in the stockrooms didn’t reflect off of them.

She ignored the fear drying her lips. “So, tell me, why didn’t you kill the Female Titan?”

The boy’s eyes widened for a second, and then they hardened, pupils somehow turning even blacker. For a second she felt a twinge of fear that he would transform right there and destroy her. But, she had to know why he hadn’t.

Suddenly, Levi was right beside her. He was still silent in his movements, even with a sprained ankle. 

“Don’t provoke him.”

Raising her chin, she turned to him and looked down at him, fully utilizing the three centimeters she had on him in height.

“Like you said, I can barely kill a Titan on my own. So what’s he got to be worried about?” She turned back to the boy and stepped closer to him. “Really, I want to know why.”

“Eren, you don’t have to answer her,” Levi said. The black-haired solemn girl beside Eren turned to face them and appeared ready to move at any minute.

Eren’s eyes turned to Levi, but then returned to Katrine’s. His eyebrows pressed down into his glare, and he stepped forward. He was taller than she was and now entirely too close to her, and she could feel his hot breath on her forehead. She regretted baiting him, regretted coming to Ehrmich, regretted ever leaving Utopia.

“I didn’t kill her because I was weak. She was a comrade, a comrade who betrayed us, and I was too much of a weakling to put her down like the traitor she was. But mark my words, if this happens again, I will tear them apart, whoever they are. I will slaughter them and make them regret ever thinking about harming us. When I’m done with this world, people will forget that there even were Titans around to terrorize us.”

Katrine was silent. Eren spat the words out like venom. Even though many of the Scouts boasted that they would be the ones to kill all the Titans and free humanity, she believed this kid. She was certain that if Titans felt fear, they would be petrified of him.

With immense effort she tore her eyes away from Eren to observe Levi from her peripheral. He too was staring at Eren, but he had a wary expression, like he was ready to pounce on Eren if he got overzealous. Katrine took the opportunity to give him a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“This one’s spicy. I like him. Don’t beat the spirit out of him like you do all the others.”

Levi narrowed his eyes but didn’t take his gaze off Eren. He looked more irritated than like her elbow hurt him. She wished she wasn’t so weak, and that it would leave a bruise.

“Hate to interrupt, but Katrine, I need to talk to you about Pastor Nick,” Hange said as she stood and rolled the papers she was studying. She turned towards the recruits. “Go get the horses ready and pack the supplies. We’re leaving for Utgard Castle in an hour.” She took the papers and disappeared into a dark room at the corner of the stockroom.

“You heard her,” Levi said and followed Hange. Katrine grit her teeth, wishing she could talk to Hange alone. 

She waved off her squad members to follow the recruits. “Go find Keiji. Have fun.” She brought one hand to her brow in exhaustion, now that Levi’s back was to her.

“Excuse me, Captain Casimir?” It was the light voice from before. Katrine turned to look at the source, a slight blonde recruit. She thought the Scout was male but wasn’t completely certain.

“It’s just Katrine. What?” She moved her hand to cover her eyes, wishing the kid would leave her alone.

“Well, they were just talking about the explosion at Schwarz Mine, and I didn’t know you were the one that did that. We went over it briefly in training but the instructor didn’t go into much detail. I was wondering, well, could you tell me how it worked?”

Katrine removed her hand and reconsidered the recruit. They were the same height and probably the same weight, but somehow he seemed much smaller and frailer. This kid probably couldn’t take down a Titan on his own either. He had an eager look similar to Eren’s, but without the dark undercurrent. 

“It exploded, that’s really all there is to it.”

“Right, but how did it explode? It couldn’t have just done it spontaneously. How did you know it would happen? Or if you didn’t, how did you make it happen?”

“Why do you want to know?” Most people didn’t care about the physics of how it happened, and if they pretended to, they got lost after a minute of explanation.

“Well, if you could kill so many Titans at once-”

“Katrine! Leave Armin alone.” Levi’s bark echoed through the now empty stockroom.

Katrine rolled her eyes and looked back at the boy, but she couldn’t help smiling. 

“I’ll tell you another time, Arnold.”

* * *

After her debriefing, Katrine returned to the small room in the soldiers' barracks that was her own. Thankfully she was entitled to private quarters as an officer, no matter that she was one of the lower-ranking ones. The meeting consisted of her and Hange jabbering back and forth about everything they’d learned in their respective missions while Levi had watched them silently with an unreadable yet dark expression. When the two had started shrieking at each other about theories and knocked over cups of tea when they leapt to their feet and slammed their hands on the table, Levi stood up and left. Katrine felt relieved and sank back down to her chair, laying her hysterics to rest. She always loved that when Hange got excited, she could match her in mania.

Exhausted but unwilling to sleep, Katrine dug through her bag and pulled out her pointe shoes. The shoes traveled everywhere with her and they showed their age and use. The previously gleaming pink satin was stained dingy brown, and the delicate ribbons that crossed her ankles were frayed. She’d taped the toes multiple times in an effort to salvage them, but she knew the shoes were at death’s door. These were her last pair, and replenishing her stock required a trip back to Mitras. She would delay that to the bitter end.

Katrine peeled off her Scout uniform, grimacing at the rough weave of the tan standard-issue jacket, and moaned in relief when she stepped into the soft leotard and leggings. After coiling her braid into a tight bun, she tugged her boots back on, slung the shoes over her shoulder by their ribbons, and left the barracks.

Since she’d been to Ehrmich before, Katrine knew where to go. In fifteen minutes she reached the cluster of warehouses that surrounded a small patch of hard dirt illuminated by the moon. She slipped between the buildings like a shadow and when she was certain that no one was loitering nearby, she replaced her boots with the pointe shoes and sank to the ground to begin stretching, enjoying the warmth of the southern air.

Feeling her muscles grow loose and limber, Katrine pushed herself off the ground and stood straight, remembering like she’d been told to tie a string around her neck and pull up, up, up, until she felt like a pliable mound of dough being stretched by an overeager baker. She lifted both arms to chest level, bending the elbows so it appeared she was holding something precious in her arms. She relaxed her fingers, letting them curl in but keeping each an equidistant measure apart. Mr. Kaiser always said that no one ever noticed the beauty of hands until it was too late, and by then you already had those beautiful hands wrapped around their necks. Katrine had snorted at that and gotten a switch to the calf, but later realized over and over that he was right.

She’d known what she wanted to practice before she even arrived in Ehrmich that evening.  _ Orchestra of the Birds _ , Act III, “The Caging of the Falcon.” It was frenzied, pulsing, and demanding; it left her gasping for air every time she finished. It required the ballerina to be fearless for the multiple leaps and surging turns, but also mimic the terror and despair of being locked into a cage. Katrine was always good at the first part, but even though she’d continued practicing it without accompanying music and criticism from an instructor, she thought she was better at it now because she finally understood the second part.

Katrine stilled her lungs and rose to her toes, catching the balance between pitching backwards and tumbling forward. The violins, harps, and piano sang in her ears, replacing the distant echo of nighttime insects and refugees’ footsteps. Her mind vanished and only muscles remained; she began.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Year 845: Two months after the fall of Shiganshina _

Five days after her graduation from the Training Corps and the disbandment of the 99th Corps of Cadets, Katrine was beginning to regret joining the Survey Corps.

After the attack on Shiganshina and destruction of Wall Maria, the Survey Corps had effectively been castrated. Expeditions beyond Wall Maria had ceased; their missions only involved inspecting Wall Rose for breaches and escorting Wall Maria residents into the confines of the next wall. True survey missions beyond the Walls and into the unknown had been postponed for the indefinite future.

Earlier, standing with the other Scout recruits at the Military Headquarters courtyard in Trost and staring up at the freshly minted Thirteenth Commander of the Survey Corps Erwin Smith, Katrine ran through in her mind the entire contract she’d signed, searching for the clause that prohibited desertion and the punishments that came along with it. Ten years hard labor in the fields near Wall Maria? And then afterwards felon status within the Walls? Was that worth it?

Erwin Smith had been droning on about guarding the innocent and raising up their hearts for something or other, and even worse, the cadets surrounding her were eating that shit up like they’d been starved for days. Protecting humanity was very noble and all, but didn’t they all want to get out? Dying for this humanity would be a complete waste.

She’d ignored the rest of the speech, deciding to focus instead on how the commander, in another life, would have made a fantastic dancer, and that Mr. Kaiser would drown himself drooling over making Erwin the prince in _ The Crane Queen_. She snickered at the idea and drew irritated glances from her peers.

And now, Katrine found herself in an overheated office facing the Thirteenth Commander himself, waiting for him to finish reading through her profile and get this over with. Erwin had insisted on meeting all the recruits himself, individually. It was all very official, very dry. As he continued to scan the report, Katrine pressed her crossed legs together and flexed her ankle in a circle, around and around, hating the silence. It had been at least five minutes, and her ankle started burning at two.

Erwin finally spoke, not looking up from the papers.

“Katrine Casimir, age twenty-five, from...Mitras.” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a long way.”

She shrugged. “Not that far.”

“You’ve ranked number ten in the 99th Corps. That’s impressive, congratulations.”

“Thanks.” She felt a drop of sweat trail down her spine.

“At number ten, you had the option to join the Military Police. It’s quite a cushy job. Tell me, why did you reject that?”

Katrine raised her eyebrows. “Are you saying I made a bad choice?”

“No, I’m just curious.”

_ Sure you are. _ “I never liked unicorns.”

Erwin blinked. He might have been taken aback at the answer, but his face revealed nothing.

“You also could have joined the Garrison Corps. Not necessarily cushy but certainly safer. Why not that either?”

“That really seemed pointless.” Was she really going to have to sit there, sweltering in silence, as this man asked for her life story? Erwin himself seemed unbothered, not a hint of sweat on his crisp, starched shirt.

“Well then, Cadet Casimir, why did you decide to join the Survey Corps?” he asked.

She could say she wanted to kill Titans, eliminate them once and for all. She could say she wanted to protect the people inside the walls, be a shield for humanity. If she wanted to get really poetic, she could even say that he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen and she would follow him to the end of the earth just to see him smile. Those would all be lies, and though Katrine prided herself on her ability to lie, she was curious as to how Erwin would react to the truth. Besides, she wanted to make him a little uncomfortable. He was entirely too composed and detached for her liking.

“To get out. Everyone here’s a goner, caught in a trap, mice waiting to be devoured by cats. And really, how else am I gonna find who’s outside these walls?” She learned forward in her chair and swung her finger in a wide circle.

Erwin looked at her. This time, he actually looked at her. Before he had a screen over his eyes, seeing her but barely registering. He did have twenty of them to meet, and with all the other crap he had to deal with, he probably didn’t have the brainpower. But Katrine knew that Erwin didn’t need to learn anything beyond their names, to really see them, because they’d probably be dead before he actually needed to know them.

He leaned forward a bit. “Well, what are you intending to find outside the walls?”

It was a gamble to tell him why. Few people dared to speculate what was beyond the walls, and all of them just thought it would be beautiful to see the giant lake of sapphire blue water or mountains that shed their skin every year. Which was fine, that would be lovely to see, but what really mattered was finding the civilizations, the cities, towns, villages. Other people, better people. They existed. She never felt so strongly about anything in her life. Because if there wasn’t anything else out there, then why keep bothering?

She decided to take the risk.

“Cities. People. They’re out there. Really, think about it, if we live here surrounded by three, well now two, walls, then there are probably places out there that are similar. Maybe five walls? Seven? They say that we’re the only ones left, but I don’t believe it. Who could know? Who’s gone out and looked, really _ looked _, and came back to tell us that there’s really no one else out there?”

Erwin was silent. His face hadn’t shifted, but she knew he was listening intently, every word registering. She kept going.

“I don’t blame them for not coming out here to find us. Maybe they’re worse off. But there are probably richer places too, and maybe they’re across this giant lake I’ve read about and can’t reach us, but just because no one’s found anything doesn’t mean no one’s out there.”

Still no response from the commander.

“You know, no one even knows there aren’t people on the _ moon _.” Finished, Katrine leaned back in her chair, waiting for his response. Maybe if he thought she was insane, then he’d decide she was not suitable for the Scouts and send her packing. No harm done.

Instead the commander laughed, loud and deep, like he hadn’t heard anything so funny in years. And he didn’t stop after a few moments like normal people did. He kept laughing, and dropped his head and covered his eyes. Katrine grimaced and her shoulders tensed; more sweat beaded at her forehead. No, she wasn’t the insane one, it was actually _ him _.

Erwin finally stopped, nearly wheezing, and wiped a tear from his eye. He had the gall to be flushed. 

“I apologize, Cadet Casimir, I wasn’t expecting that,” he said. He gazed to the left, a strange smile on his face. 

Katrine was silent, unmoving, staring at the commander as if he were going to start convulsing.

“It’s just that I haven’t heard anyone talk like that in a long time,” he said.

She didn’t have a response ready. Her mouth dried and her fingers twitched; she had no idea what he wanted to hear.

“...Right,” she eventually said.

“But I assume you’ve read up on the subject. All the history books say we’re the only ones left.”

She snorted. “Yeah, sure, but did the authors really go out and look themselves? Or did they just depend on what everyone else said? And what’s really weird is that they only go back a hundred years. I’m sure people knew how to write back then. Sketchy, if you ask me.” She caught his eye and put her finger to her chin, miming deep thought.

He cocked his head, a thoughtful gleam appearing in his eyes. 

“You must read a lot, Cadet Casimir,” he said.

“Uh, probably as much as anyone else,” she said with a shrug.

“And have you discussed this with others?”

“Not really. Most people don’t wanna hear it.”

He nodded. Just as suddenly as it appeared the gleam was gone and the mask dropped back down.

“So you’re using the Survey Corps to get a better chance at your dream?” he said, solemn again.

“I mean, if I could I’d just go myself, but I haven’t heard of anyone who’s made it very far outside the walls and I don’t have any particularly bright ideas myself. Though, to be honest, I was promised expeditions outside Wall Maria, but now that it’s been shattered like a cheap teacup you’ve been demoted to cleanup duty, so now I’m not sure,” she said.

“You’re not wrong, but there’s plenty to see outside Wall Rose. Most people haven’t seen what’s outside their districts or towns.”

“I’ve seen the maps. I don’t think there’s a secret metropolis hiding out there.”

“And how do Titans fit into your plan, Cadet Casimir?” Erwin asked.

“Granted, I haven’t actually seen one in person, but I heard most of them are pretty stupid. They’re like giant rats, really. Rats are nasty, but if you set a trap you’re fine.” 

“Rats can’t eat a man whole,” he said. His face was still neutral. She realized that he looked so young for his age because his lack of expression caused no wrinkles. _ Lucky bastard. _

“I’ve seen some big as dogs, so I think they could,” she said.

“You’ll see for yourself, I suppose. Well then, Cadet Casimir, this was very enlightening for me. You and your fellow cadets will be discussed amongst the section leaders and myself, and we will then determine your positions based on your particular strengths. You are dismissed,” he said, and looked back down at the list in front of him and crossed something out.

“It’s Katrine.” She was going to scream if she heard “Cadet” one more time.

He raised his head. “Excuse me?”

“It’s _ Katrine _. You people are way too formal.”

He chuckled softly. It was just as unnatural as his breakdown earlier. Most of the time she knew when people found her ridiculous and didn’t take her seriously, but with him, she had no idea.

“Okay, Katrine, but you won’t have much luck getting everyone else to comply with that.”

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing, and turned to exit. When her hand was on the doorknob, he spoke again.

“Good luck tonight.”

“What do you mean?” Katrine felt a sudden chill at her back, amplified by the sweat.

“Oh right, they haven’t told you. Sorry, forget I said anything.”

She just shook her head. _ Absolutely huge, giant mistake _.

* * *

Since entering the Survey Corps a year ago, Levi had yet to experience a Cadet Royale, and he was glad it was finally arriving so that people would stop talking about it.

A Cadet Royale, the others gleefully explained over dinner, was when the new recruits arrived and the soldiers graduating in the top ten were made to fight each other in some grotesque competition, with wagers cast on each contestant. The contest was decided by a lottery, where Scouts wrote down their ideas on slips of paper drawn out of a bowl. He’d been told the year before there were four especially burly male cadets who had to wrench brooms out of each other’s hands. It apparently went on for hours and ended with a hotly contested disqualification. The greatest of recent note had been a blindfolded race down a hill, where one cadet broke his nose and another an arm. 

The other soldiers who’d lived long enough to remember cackled at the memory, clutching their sides and spilling their drinks.

“This year, I want it to be an eating contest. Like, who can eat the most spiders,” Eld said, across from Levi.

“That’s gross, Eld. They should actually fight each other, hand to hand,” a young woman named Tara said.

“What about with swords?” Eld asked.

“We don’t want them to kill each other, idiot,” Tara said.

Eld turned to Levi. “What are you going to submit?” 

“Knowing him, it’ll be a cleaning contest,” Tara said.

Levi picked up his plate and rose to leave. “Nothing. There are better things to do,” he said.

“Man, you’re missing out,” Eld said, shrugging. “They give us a ton of booze.”

Levi really could use the time that everyone was in the courtyard watching the spectacle to clean the common rooms properly, without any interruptions, but there was a tiny bit of curiosity nagging at him. These people had been talking about it with eager intensity for the past month, and after the Titans had broken through Wall Maria and decimated Shiganshina, they needed something to look forward to.

He really wanted to be above this shit. It was meaningless. But maybe it was something from his Underground days, seeing people fight each other in melees for coins, that made him want to see people who’d never even imagined that happening endure it for themselves.

Therefore, he wasn’t terribly surprised but a bit embarrassed to find himself sitting between Eld and Hange with the crowd of Scouts in the courtyard, inspecting the three Cadets staring back at them, two male and one female.

It was well past sundown, and each soldier had gotten their allotted two shots of whiskey. Levi had passed his share off to Eld, to his delight. The soldiers surrounding them were flushed and loose, prone to bouts of shouting and guttural laughter. The other recruits sat in neat rows to the side, all ramrod straight and silent.

“I heard the number two could kill a bear with his own hands,” Eld said to the soldier beside him.

“Whatever, I’ve heard that before. But did you hear the number ten’s from Mitras?” the other man asked.

“Yeah, a dancer! Hah! Wonder why she’d leave such an easy job for this,” Eld said.

“She’s supposed to be good with ODM.”

“Doesn’t matter, can’t use ODM in the Cadet Royale! She’s gonna get killed. I’m betting on number two,” Eld said with a hiccup.

“I’m going for number eight. He looks like he’s got brains.”

Miche walked to the front of the crowd and the soldiers quieted. Section Leaders Weber and Hanna followed and sat at the large desk a group of them had dragged out of the officers’ quarters earlier that day. They shuffled around some papers, trying to appear official.

Miche cleared his throat. Despite the dim light, Levi could tell the man’s face was flushed and sweaty.

“Attention, soldiers! I am honored to be your head judge in tonight’s Cadet Royale. Joining me as judges are Section Leaders Noah Weber and Hanna Jung. Now, for anyone who hasn’t had the honor of attending before, there are only two rules. First, no interfering with procedures, and no arguing with our final decision. After interrogation, the contest will be decided, and bets will begin.”

He turned to face the cadets. 

“Cadets!” he shouted, with more force than necessary. “You will not speak unless spoken to! Refusal to participate will result in fifty laps and a week of latrine duty!”

Levi noticed the female cadet wrinkle her nose.

Miche turned to the desk and plopped down into his clair, nearly falling backwards. He cleared his throat and picked up a sheet of paper in front of him.

“Number two, Henry Becker, age sixteen. Step forward, please.”

A muscular, tanned man of above-average height stepped forward. He had a sure smile, hands on his hips.

“Cadet Henry, you have been ranked ten out of ten on combat and sword wielding, six on classroom abilities and planning, nine in teamwork, and seven on ODM gear. Very well rounded, a fine addition to the Survey Corps.”

The soldiers behind him cheered. Henry saluted them and the cheers grew louder.

“This is ridiculous, I’m going,” Levi said, beginning to rise to his feet.

“Wait, man! You never hang out with us,” Eld said. There was a disappointed edge to his voice, like he’d expected something more from him. Levi didn’t know why he would, but still, he felt the slightest twinge of guilt.

“Levi, I promise you, this is going to make you laugh, and I’m not even sure you have the physical ability to do so,” Hange said.

“Fuck off, four-eyes, I laugh all the time.” Levi sat back down as if to prove a point, but he tuned out the proceedings, instead concentrating on the fact that the top right window of the headquarters’ second floor was still cracked, despite ten months of his steady complaints. _ Incompetent morons, it can’t possibly be that hard to fix it. _ He’d never repaired a window before, but he’d figure it out.

Levi weighed the pros and cons of shattering the entire window completely and replacing it from scratch when he felt Hange bump into him while she rocked forward on her hands and knees like a toddler.

“Watch out, stupid.”

“Sorry! I just get so excited,” Hange said, not even looking at him, just gaping with a peculiar shine in her eye. 

Turning back to the cadets, Levi watched the number eight cadet Yan Koch return to his spot.

“Number ten, Katrine Casimir, age twenty-five. Step forward, please,” Section Leader Hanna said.

The slight woman complied, light on her feet. She had a wary look in her eyes and her muscles appeared tense, as if she were ready to spring away at any moment. Her lips were unnaturally red. 

“Cadet Katrine, unfortunately you have scored a two out of ten on combat and sword ability,” Hanna said. “However, you have tens on both classroom abilities and ODM. Instructor Voth wrote about two pages on how he’d never seen anything like it, which for the benefit of all of us I will not read aloud, but the newly minted Instructor Shadis only wrote that your tendency to spite gravity will come back to bite you.”

Katrine remained still. 

“Though, you’re much older than the average cadet. I have to ask, why did you wait so long to join the Training Corps?” Hanna asked.

“There’s a mistake on the paper. I’m actually fifty-two,” Katrine said.

Some in the crowd snorted; others shifted uncomfortably.

Miche shot to his feet and slammed a hand on the desk. “Cadet Casimir, you will only speak when asked a question!”

“I was asked a question,” she said evenly.

“She’s got bite. How long do you give her before she gets a punch to the face?” a soldier near them asked.

“Three days, tops!” Eld said, laughing.

“Miche, I get to ask the questions!” Hanna cried, whining. She turned back to Katrine.

“‘Cadet Casimir often does not regard critical situations with the seriousness they require, and has on occasion displayed a severe lack of respect for authority, particularly from men,’ Instructor Shadis wrote. That’s...interesting. Would you agree with this assessment, Katrine?” Hanna asked.

Katrine looked offended. “Absolutely not!” She enunciated each syllable and pressed a hand to her chest. It was obviously insincere.

“That’s an odd one,” Eld said.

“She’ll be useless,” Levi said.

“Seems like Voth and Shadis had a disagreement as to whether you’d even be included in the top ten.” Hanna narrowed her eyes and looked at the other squad leaders. “Guess Voth won out then. But I think we should get started!”

The Scouts behind them jumped to their feet, clamoring.

Miche held up a soup caldron filled with scraps of paper with Royale suggestions above his head, eyes closed, serene smile on his face. Weber whooped beside him, clutching Miche’s bicep. Even Hange was on her feet, laughing and shaking the shoulder of another Scout. Levi was growing seriously concerned that he would be crushed.

“Quiet!” Miche shouted, voice booming. The Scouts hushed in eager anticipation. Miche lowered the bowl and dipped a hand in, swirling it around with his eyes squeezed shut. He withdrew a slip and held it for the Scouts to see. Then, he opened it slowly, as if he were holding something sacred.

“This year’s Cadet Royale is...a wrestling match, blindfolded, with hands tied behind their backs!”

The Scouts roared. Hange turned to Levi, disappointed.

“I was going to make them drink a gallon of prune juice and then run ten miles.”

Levi was horrified. “You really are a psycho.”

“Now, please proceed to Corporal Sommer to place your bets!” Miche shouted.

Hange elbowed Levi. “Hey, who are you betting on?”

“None of them, it’s a waste of money.”

“You’re cheap. I’m betting on Katrine since no one else will,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s how this works,” he said.

“Yeah, but if she wins, then I’ll make so much money!” Hange clasped her hands together in glee. She had that look on her face she got whenever she had a demented idea.

After they’d made their bets, the three cadets were herded to the center of the courtyard, Scouts gathering to the back of the gate to make room. The squad leaders tied blindfolds on the cadets and bound their hands. As they finished and began to walk away, Katrine shuffled to Yan and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Cadet Katrine! No discussions!” Weber shouted.

Katrine returned to her spot, nose wrinkled again.

“On my mark! Three, two, one, _ begin _!” Miche cried.

While the two men immediately sank into crouches, Katrine took three large steps backwards. She froze, perched on her toes, listening for the sounds of the others’ footsteps. When she heard none, she dropped back to her heels and bent forward slightly, moving her tied wrists up off her back. Twisting her shoulders, she lifted her arms around her head, bringing her bound hands to her stomach in a fluid, effortless motion.

The Scouts, Levi included, collectively recoiled. It reminded him of overcooked noodles flopping on a plate.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” Eld said, gagging.

“No, that’s incredible! I have to know how those shoulders work,” Hange said.

Katrine brought her tied hands to her eyes and ripped the blindfold off. Then, she moved her wrists to her mouth and tore out the knot with her teeth. It had been less than a minute, and the other two cadets hadn’t even moved.

“Ha! I knew she was smart,” Hange said, beaming.

But instead of moving towards the other two cadets, Katrine turned and dashed around the building.

“_ Cadet _! That’s latrine duty if you quit!” Miche shouted after her.

“I’m not _ quitting _!” a voice returned from out of sight. Several Scouts groaned.

Katrine returned, walking at a slow pace, carrying a shovel. A few Scouts cheered while others complained to Miche.

“That’s cheating! The rules say blindfolded and hands tied!”

“Yeah, this is an unfair advantage!”

Miche frowned, turning to the other section leaders. “I don’t know about this.”

Hanna cackled. “Give her a chance, she had the biggest disadvantage from the start!”

Katrine walked to the other two cadets, shovel perched on one shoulder, but stopped a safe distance away. Stabbing the point of the blade into the ground, she balanced both arms on the handle and rested her chin on them.

“Okay, Yan, you’re about three feet away from him and he’s got his left leg forward. Remember he’s got a bad right knee,” she called.

Some of the Scouts booed. Katrine raised her head and shot them a look of disdain. She lifted one arm and shook her head, as if asking them, _ what do you expect me to do? _

Levi simultaneously felt irked by her behavior and a peculiar sense of pride, watching her observe the spectacle unfolding in front of them. He realized Isabel would have killed to be in Katrine’s position, having the upper hand and laughing in their faces. But no, it felt wrong. The thought of the two of them in the same category gave him the same feeling as when he caught a Scout using bleach without gloves.

Yan jumped at the sound of Katrine’s voice. “How’d you get behind-”

Katrine shrieked. “Look out!”

Henry barreled into Yan, knocking him into the ground. The resulting thud was hard enough for the crowd to feel, and many of the Scouts winced in pain. Henry pinned Yan to the ground with his weight and the two struggled against each other, groaning. Yan squirmed under Henry, but his opponent was having a difficult time pinning him down without his vision. Toes scraping at the dirt, Yan squeezed out of Henry’s hold and clambered to his feet, panting.

“Come here, Yan, I’ll untie you!” Katrine yelled.

“Where are you?”

“Where you can hear me _ shouting _, stupid!” She threw her head back and slapped a hand to her forehead.

_ She’s enjoying this _, Levi realized, when he caught her eyes observing the crowd instead of the two cadets in front of her.

Yan stumbled over to Katrine, nearly tripping over his own feet. Silently, Katrine tossed the shovel behind her and, before untying Yan, turned him around so he was facing Henry. The larger cadet was still on the ground but crouched, ready to spring.

Untied and vision restored, Yan regarded Henry with a wary expression, and then stared at his own open hands before him. He appeared unsure of his own strength, or if he had the capability to attack a handicapped teammate.

Katrine moved to Yan’s side and reached up to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Yan, you’re strong enough to do this. You know, I heard from a vet earlier than whoever wins gets three extra meat rations.”

Yan turned to Katrine, still confused. “Really? And you won’t go back on what you said?”

Katrine nodded solemnly. “Never. Remember, bad right knee.”

Yan turned to assess Henry, his face now serious. He stepped forward, still cautious, but steady. Silently, he moved behind Henry and leapt on him, grabbing one arm and forcing the elbow upwards. Henry grunted and tried to swing Yan off of him, but the two fell to the ground. Despite Henry’s physique, his disadvantage meant there was little he could do against his opponent, and Yan used his other arm to force Henry in a chokehold.

“You’re doing great, Yan!” Katrine shouted as she picked the shovel up and crept closer to them.

“Hold him down for five and he’s disqualified!” Miche shouted.

Henry continued to thrash, but with his arm wrenched behind his back and Yan’s foot on his right knee, he had no chance of escaping.

“That’s five, Henry Becker is out!” Miche said, disappointed. “I bet on him,” he said to the other section leaders, sighing.

Yan jumped off Henry and rose to his feet. “I did it-”

Katrine swung the shovel, slamming the flat part of the blade directly into Yan’s temple. He crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The crowd of Scouts was unnaturally silent. Levi could even hear the sounds of the city in the distance. Many had their mouths agape; others were shaking their heads. Eld looked dismayed. Some utterances about cheating began to spread through the crowd. Levi, however, was pleasantly surprised at the result. He always thought that people who refused to cheat weren’t trying hard enough.

“Well, uh, looks like Cadet Casimir is the winner of this year’s Cadet Royale,” Miche said, confused. He exchanged looks with the other squad leaders, brow furrowed.

Katrine planted the shovel in the ground and leaned on it, one hand on her hip. “So for my prize or reward or whatever, I’d _ really _love to not have to clean the stables. Thank you very much for your consideration,” she said.

* * *

“Okay, so if I keep bringing my arm back like this it stops at about a thirty degree angle from my head. But when I do it to your arm, I can get it to that thirty degree angle but then I see your shoulder begins to rotate, and then the arm moves past that angle downwards. My shoulder rotates too but my arm won’t move past that angle. Fascinating...”

Katrine sat, concentrating on the overgrown grass prickling at her calves, as the tall brunette woman who’d introduced herself as Hange moved her outstretched arm back and forth over her head like a lever. Hange had spent the better part of the last hour studying Katrine’s arms and shoulders, fascinated with their hypermobility.

“But your shoulder structure doesn’t seem all that different from mine. When did you notice you could do this?” Hange asked.

“I don’t know, it’s always been there,” Katrine said, slouching forward. This whole exercise was strangely relaxing. Sure, Hange smelled a little and had gotten her head entirely too close to Katrine’s armpit, but she had the curious energy of a child, and Katrine felt like her well-loved rag doll. Besides, she’d learned that Hange was the only other woman around who actually picked up a book every now and then, so Katrine had her pick of Hange’s stack in return for participating as a test subject.

“You know, only two people bet on you, myself included, so I have more money than I even know what to do with-”

“Hange! Stables!” a voice cried.

“Coming!” Hange released Katrine’s arm and ran off, turning back to wave. Katrine waved back and dropped to the ground, brushing the palms of her hands against the warm grass. She closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of sunshine on her face and the rustle of leaves in her ears. She could even hear birds singing. _ Singing! _ Katrine thought the books on them must have been exaggerating, since all she’d seen before were pigeons, but these birds were tiny, brilliantly colored, and warbled like violins.

Outside was beautiful, perfect. It was so detailed, but immense. Even just twenty kilometers outside of Trost, there was so much waiting to be discovered.

There was shouting to her right, boisterous Scouts yelling orders to each other and complaining about horse manure. Katrine opened her eyes into slits and curled her lip. She couldn’t hear the birds anymore, and she groaned and brought the crooks of her elbows up to her eyes. Two days off stable duty was not enough. She’d only gotten those two days not because she’d earned them but because Hanna and Weber found her audacity at the Cadet Royale hilarious. Miche, blustering, had been overruled.

“Katrine, we’re finally _ dooone _!” Sara shouted. Katrine could hear her footsteps crunching through the grass. She lifted her arms off her face to see Sara ambling towards her, Charlotte and Larissa following. Katrine raised one arm to wave, but didn’t get up. She yawned and stretched, arching her back like a satisfied cat.

Sara laid beside Katrine, falling to the ground in a heap with a moan. Charlotte flopped behind her while Larissa swept through a patch of grass for bugs before gingerly sitting.

Katrine had become friends with the three women not of her own volition. She’d entered the Corps with the goal of keeping her head down and mouth shut, but had violated her own rule the second day when she’d thrown hot soup on a recruit who’d decided he had the right to slide his hand through Larissa’s long brown hair. After that Larissa, Charlotte, and Sara brought their plates to wherever Katrine was sitting, and who was she to tell them to leave? Besides, their chatter was soothing.

“They said we leave in two hours. Hope we don’t see any Titans,” Sara said.

“You’re so lucky you got out of stable duty, Katrine. Those horses smell,” Larissa said.

“Yup, and I won it fair and square,” Katrine said, snickering.

“Section Leader Miche’s sniffing is driving me insane, I can’t believe I got stuck with him,” Charlotte said. She turned to Katrine and Sara. “You guys are lucky you got Section Leader Hanna,” she said, raking both hands into her red hair and tugging.

“Just you wait, Charlotte, in a month you’ll be sniffing like a dog too!” Sara exclaimed. They laughed together and collapsed into a heap on the ground. 

Charlotte pointed towards the stables. “Hey, there’s the commander.” The women sat up to look. The tall man was easy to spot.

“Now that’s what every man should look like,” Sara said, fanning herself with both hands. “What a perfect specimen.”

Katrine kicked her. “You’re a creep, Sara.”

“What, you don’t think he’s a very tall, very refreshing glass of water?” Larissa said. “I don’t think he’s married.”

“Yeah, but he’s always with that short guy,” Charlotte said. “Bummer.”

“That’s Captain _ Leee _-vi, Charlotte, you’re so dumb!” Larissa smacked her friend.

“I mean, he’s not bad looking either,” Sara said, finger on her lips.

“Sara, you’re a good head taller than him. And he’s _ scary _. Have you seen those eyes? He’s seen shit.” Larissa snorted.

“They really are always together,” Charlotte said. “What could be so engrossing?”

“Maybe they’re fucking,” Katrine said, cavalier.

Charlotte shrieked so loud that all the Scouts in the yard, Erwin and Levi included, turned to stare at them. Larissa pounced on her, covering her mouth with her hand, and Sara waved off the curious and irked stares from the Scouts. Katrine looked away pointedly and fiddled with her braid.

“Katrine, you’re going to be the death of me,” Charlotte said, wheezing for air. Tears leaked from her eyes.

“She’s going to be the death of all of us,” Sara said, glowering at Katrine. But she had already laid back down on the grass, eyes closed.

* * *

The only thing Katrine could think of when she saw Section Leader Hanna’s head burst into a bloody mess was that inane conversation on the grass. It felt like years ago, but only three hours later, she watched a Titan tear Hanna into pieces and indiscriminately choke down some parts and toss others away.

Despite putting three rookies and a relatively inexperienced section leader in what was promised to be a safe position, the pack of five Titans pounced on them with little warning. They’d been late to see and react to the plumes of red smoke. And now, with their leader dead and surrounded by miles of open space, Katrine, Sara, and Henry urged their horses on faster.

“What are we going to do?!” Sara shrieked. Katrine could see in her periphery the tears streaking away from Sara’s eyes.

“Keep running, we can’t win against five!” Henry shouted.

“But they’re _ gaining _!” Sara looked back, biting down hard on her lip. She scraped tawny hair out of her eyes and left a bloody scratch on her forehead.

_ No, this is not going to happen, I am not dying with the rest of them as a headless corpse that no one will recognize _. Katrine turned to watch the Titans stomping after them, drool streaking from their cavernous mouths, and she grit her teeth. No, she was going to die a wrinkled old lady, and for that matter, die basking in the sun in some wealthy paradise where it was warm and bright every single day.

And then she remembered, finally, something other than the irony of watching a veteran Scout be eaten only hours after she had laughed about something as ludicrous as attractive superiors. It was that in training, the instructors always stressed going for the nape, because that killed a Titan. She never understood why, instead of going for an all-or-nothing shot, one could cripple the Titan first and have relatively safer and more numerous opportunities to go for the kill. The eyes were soft and vulnerable, while the nape was covered in tough skin. Couldn’t one hypothetically cut the eyes first, and then have an easier time lacerating the nape correctly? Instructor Shadis had screamed that it was a waste of energy and gas, but really, what did he know? And besides, he’d admitted she could defy gravity.

“I have an idea!” Katrine shouted, turning to face both Sara and Henry. “But you have to do what I say, and if you don’t then we’re all screwed!”

“What?” Henry shouted back.

“I’m not strong enough to get good cuts on their napes, but you two are. But I’m fast enough to cut their eyes. That’ll make them easier targets.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed. “Why bother? That can’t kill them!” 

“It’ll cripple them enough for you two to kill them!” Katrine pressed her knees into her horse’s ribs, praying for it to run faster and give her enough time to convince Henry.

“That’s stupid, Katrine! Why don’t we all just go for the napes?”

“Because you’re the strongest out of our class! We need to make things easy for you to go in and kill them! Besides, if you go for one, another could see you and eat you and then we’d all be dead!” 

Henry grunted, staring forward. He seemed to accept the idea. But then his brow furrowed and he whipped his head towards her.

“We’re in open space, there’s nothing for the ODM to hold!” he shouted.

“The Titans! First the feet where it’s harder to grab you, and then go up to the nape when they’re blinded!”

“That’s insane! That’s like walking into their mouths!” Henry gave her an incredulous look.

“They’ll be blind! They’ll be focused on the pain!”

He stared back at the Titans and swallowed hard. “You might be fast, Katrine, but I don’t know if you’re that fast.”

“What, you have a better idea?” she snapped. 

Henry grimaced. “Why should I trust you after what you pulled at the Royale?” His eyes revealed suspicion.

“You don’t need to trust me, you just need to do what I say! I’ll call out which ones I’ll blind and then you go for the nape!”

Henry glared at her, but jumped at the sudden crunch of a Titan’s foot slamming into a group of trees. He gulped, and nodded at her. Katrine turned to Sara. She was still crying, but violently swiped at the tears.

“You can do it, Sara! Seriously! You were always way better than me in the training exercises! And I’m not letting you die without at least one kill to your name,” Katrine shouted.

“B-but I scored a four-”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, there’s no logic to those scores! If you think I want anyone else with me, right here, then you are sorely mistaken!” Katrine tried to keep her voice even so she wouldn’t reveal her own emotions. But she was more angry than afraid, because these Titans had the gall to pick them to chase.

Sara dropped her hand from her face and stared at Katrine, revealing a pale, scared face. But there was a hint of steel in her gaze.

_ More, a little more _. “I mean it, Sara!”

Sara clenched her jaw and nodded.

Katrine dropped her reins and lifted her feet to the saddle, turning herself towards the Titans. She watched their legs barreling towards her; they slammed into the ground with enough force to crush a house, but moved at a regular tempo. When running at top speed, they didn’t have the ability to change direction easily. As Katrine analyzed them for the best option, she grabbed her braid and coiled it once around her neck, tucking the end into the back of her jacket. She chose her target, a sturdy looking ten-meter. Aim, grapple, hit the gas.

She was at its leg in seconds, but had picked the next Titan even earlier and torpedoed herself towards it, using her cables and just a bit of gas to swing in a wide arc to gain momentum. She couldn’t use too much, because she had no idea how long this would take and how much gas would be required. The Titans continued running after Sara and Henry, but also realized she had infiltrated their ranks and were beginning to shift apart, stumbling at the interruption. She kept swinging between them, aware of shifting legs and but low enough to the ground to avoid grabby hands.

When she knew she had enough momentum, Katrine grappled to the ankle of one Titan but instead of pointing her toes parallel to the ground, she directed them upwards, and releasing the grapple, she shot into the sky, gaining meters and meters on the Titans until she was way above them, even higher than they could reach. It was cold, clear, and eerily quiet up there. The Titans kept running, but seemed to have a difficult time raising their heads to look up at her. They probably weren’t used to using those muscles.

_ Up here, they look like regular people. _

But it wasn’t time to think about that, and she was reaching the apex of her trajectory. She couldn’t stop gravity. Drawing her knees to her chest, she analyzed the Titans’ positions and picked one close to Henry and Sara.

“The blonde! Seven-meter!” Katrine shouted as loud as she could, expelling all the air in her lungs. Sucking in one huge breath, she pointed herself downward towards the Titan she’d called. With the right moment rapidly approaching, she decided the best spot to swing herself into the Titan’s eyes was from its left shoulder. Drawing her sword, Katrine punctured her target with her grapple and using her momentum, swung herself at the Titan and sliced its eyes, dragging her blade through the soft substance.

It worked. Despite the shallow wound and the exertion burning in her arms the Titan crashed to the ground, roaring and clawing at its face. And there was momentum to spare. Releasing her grapples she flew into the air, not as high, but arcing towards another Titan. 

“Bald, six-meter!” she screamed before grappling into its temple, cutting its eyes.

As the other Titan fell, she made sure to point herself upwards to repeat the process, figuring out which Titan to attack while calculating where to go next. In the air she saw Sara and Henry jump off their horses and grapple onto the fallen Titan, the two slicing into its nape. The Titan barely noticed them in its agony and fell over, steaming.

For a brief triumphant moment she imagined that if she saw Shadis again, she would laugh in his face.

Katrine aimed for the next Titan that was hurtling towards Sara and Henry, and after blinding it, she swung to the fourth Titan. But she miscalculated her grapple and it shot past the Titan’s ear and into thin air. Turning with a curious expression, the Titan pinched the cable, which looked like thread in its massive fingers. A sickening tremor vibrated to her hip and throughout her body, and for the first time fear overtook her anger.

Without hesitating Katrine cut the cable, severing it and freeing herself. She hurtled over the Titan’s head and into open air. Only one cable was better than being eaten. She whipped her head around, searching for that final Titan, and something to attach onto before she slammed into the ground. But, she snapped her head back when she heard a wet slash and the groan of a Titan, and saw that Henry had grappled onto the fourth Titan while it was distracted and killed it.

“Henry, you are _ perfect _!” she screamed, louder than the air whistling past her ears.

Henry raised his sword, blood steaming on his face, and grinned. Behind him, Sara jumped off the corpse and pointed to the final Titan.

“There, Katrine!” she yelled.

The Titan was a small one, only four meters, one that she’d purposely avoided because its small stature would make it difficult to use for momentum. However, Katrine was moving away from that Titan and needed to turn herself around. Frantically, she searched the ground for anything to hold, and found only one disappointingly thin tree.

_ Please hold, please hold, please hold- _

Katrine shot her single grapple into the tree and swung herself around it, changing direction. The trunk bent into an unnatural curve, but it held. Streaking through the air, Katrine flew towards the smaller Titan and slit its eyes. Henry and Sara followed to complete the job.

Finished, Katrine flipped herself upside down and pointed her gas into her trajectory, creating resistance to slow down. She grappled into a Titan corpse and continued to reduce speed until she hit the ground safely. The three cadets regrouped and gaped, heaving, at the five Titan corpses surrounding them. The steam and stench of blood was overwhelming, but they were alive. They had won.

“We did it! Us, a bunch of greens! _ Ha _!” Henry shouted, panting but laughing.

Katrine couldn’t contain herself. “I _ know _! You two were brilliant!”

“Come on, we need to find the horses!” Sara said, still anxious, but relief was evident in her voice.

They sprinted from the steaming corpses, and Sara whistled for the horses.

“That was all you, Katrine,” Henry said, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

“No, you were the ones that killed them.” Katrine shook her head. She was so full of adrenaline that she wasn’t even bothered by his touch. 

“But it was your idea-”

Sara shrieked. “They came back! Thank God!” She ran towards her brown horse and hugged its neck like she’d never been so glad to see another living creature.

Katrine mounted her own horse and pointed towards the remnants of green smoke in the sky.

“Look, we need to get over there. But there might be more.”

They galloped towards the smoke. Katrine anticipated more Titans, but she was almost unafraid - back there, she’d felt nearly invincible. Scanning the horizon, she rose in her saddle when she saw someone on a horse, brown hair streaming behind her. A ten-meter Titan chased her.

“Is that…?” Katrine asked.

“Larissa! Hey! Over here!” Sara shouted, waving frantically at their friend.

“No, stop! They’ll come over here!” Henry said.

“We can’t leave her to die!” Sara cried. She turned to Katrine. “Katrine, tell him! We have to help her!”

But Katrine was frozen, watching Larissa gallop away from the encroaching Titan. It was hopeless, wasn’t it? The Titan was going to catch up to her faster than they could, and then they’d have jumped right back into danger. No, they needed to stay. 

_ But then she’ll die, and it’ll be all your fault. You could have done something, and you didn’t, because everyone you touch is doomed. Like before. _

She felt an icy shiver down her spine.

_ It’s useless, she’s going to get eaten- _

_ No, no, bad excuse, Katrine. You’re just a coward. _

“Katrine!” Sara shrieked.

Katrine snapped back to attention and saw that the Titan had grabbed Larissa and was lifting her limp body to its mouth. Katrine’s blood turned from icy to searing hot and prickling, full of fear and rage, mostly towards herself.

Suddenly a vivid green flash barreled into the Titan, streaking metal and blood. The Titan released a high-pitched screech, boring deep into Katrine’s bones. It arched backwards and raised its open hands to the sky, as if lamenting. Larissa’s broken body tumbled to the ground, and the Scout landed next to her and crouched over her as the Titan collapsed behind them.

Katrine gasped, the air burning her lungs.

“It’s Captain Levi, thank God, we’re going to _ live _!” Henry nudged his horse and galloped away. Katrine and Sara followed.

When they reached the fallen Titan, Levi emerged from the steam and appraised them with a calm expression, but something thunderous lurked in his dark eyes. The way he walked told Katrine immediately that Larissa was dead. Katrine only stared at the Titan, avoiding both Larissa’s corpse and Sara’s face.

“Where’s your squad leader?” Levi asked.

“She’s dead,” Henry answered.

Levi nodded, silent, and turned to search the sky for green smoke. When he found it, he pointed towards it. 

“That way. Come on,” he said, mounting his horse and wiping blood off his cloak. Suddenly he stiffened, and turned back to the three Scouts. His expression had somehow grown even darker.

“Wait. If you all came from back there…” Levi trailed off, and his eyes narrowed. “Which one of you idiots decided that becoming a human slingshot was a good idea?”

* * *

The door to Erwin’s office swung open, and Henry walked out, pace steady, but as if he expected the floor to give out from under him any second. Katrine and Sara looked up, and Henry nodded to Sara. She turned to Katrine with a frightened look, but hoisted herself up off the floor and walked into the office, closing the door behind her.

It had been two hours since the Scouts had made it back to the cramped fortress thirty kilometers from Trost with “minor” casualties. Katrine had bitten her tongue at the word.

“What did they say?” she whispered sharply as Henry slid to the floor next to her. The hallway was otherwise silent.

“The expedition. They want to know how three recruits killed five Titans without a veteran,” he whispered back.

Katrine gave an exaggerated shrug. “Why do they care? We killed them, we did our job.”

“They said the method was...unorthodox.”

“Why does it matter?”

Henry shook his head. “I don’t know. I told them it was your idea.”

Katrine was so angry she wanted to choke him. “_ Henry _! You two killed five Titans! I just distracted them.”

“I’m not going to lie to the Commander! Why are you so upset about this?”

“I don’t want the attention! I don’t want them looking at me!”

Henry looked confused. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Then they’re gonna be watching me! Haven’t you heard of keeping your head down?” Katrine realized she was raising her voice and put her cold hands to her cheeks to calm herself.

“I really don’t see what the problem is, Katrine.” He shrugged.

“Of course you don’t.” She folded her arms and purposely fixed her eyes on the office door.

The two sat in silence. Katrine strained her ears to listen to the conversation inside, but only heard muffled cadences. Anxiety was building in her stomach and she wrapped her braid around her neck, twisting, until she could chew at the end of it. _ Who’d have thought the Scouts never tried blinding a Titan first? It’s so obvious! _

The door creaked open and Sara appeared, dazed, and she looked at Katrine. Her eyes were puffy. Katrine set her jaw and rose to her feet, slowly, feeling the muscles tense in her knees. She dug her nails into her palms and stepped into the room, turning to close the door with as much precision as she could. Anything too quiet or too loud would show she was afraid.

Katrine fixed her gaze on the Commander sitting at his desk, but counted the occupants. Four men, one woman. Bad odds. She left her hands at her sides and lowered her chin, waiting for Erwin to speak.

“Katrine, thank you for joining us. Please, sit,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of him. He had the same look on his face as before, calm and serious. 

Katrine eyed the chair for a second, and walked to it with a measured pace. She sat as if she were expecting a thumbtack on it.

“Cadet! You salute the Commander when addressed!” Miche said, standing behind Erwin.

“_ Ohhh _!” Katrine said, too loud, and smacked her right fist to her chest. “Sorry! Still new at this,” she said to Erwin with a sheepish smile. His expression didn’t change, though Miche scowled.

“I expect you know the reason I’ve summoned you here, correct?” Erwin asked.

“Yeah.” The smile dropped from her face.

“So can you please explain to me, in your own words, what happened?”

“Okay, so Hanna died because we were stupid and not paying enough attention, and she tried to protect us, which to be completely honest she did not have to do, because she’s way more useful than the three of us combined. Anyway, we had five Titans chasing us, and we thought that if someone blinded the Titans first, then it’d be easier to kill them.”

“Who came up with that idea?”

“Uh, Henry. Yeah, there’s a reason why he was number two.”

Erwin narrowed his eyes, just slightly but enough for her to notice.

“Katrine, both Henry and Sara said it was your idea,” he said.

“I’d really say it was a team effort.” Katrine tugged at the braid still coiled around her neck, feeling a choking sensation. She noticed a tiny speck of crimson on the edge of it. 

“Well, then, what made you think to throw yourself thirty meters in the air?”

“To cut the Titans’ eyes.”

“How so?”

Katrine frowned. The man was asking far too many questions. She decided to change her tactic.

“That high you gain a lot of speed going down, which gives you more force,” Katrine said, raising her hands to motion in the air. “So, if you have enough force, even someone like me who’s not particularly strong can do some damage. Though, I didn’t think I’d be able to cut deep enough in the napes, so I thought, _ obviously _ , the eyes were the safer option.” She shot her hand straight up, fingers spread, mimicking a bright idea. “And Henry and Sara are _ waaay _ stronger than me so I wanted to give them as much breathing room as possible. So, to begin you have to-”

“How’d you know it would work?” he asked, cutting her off.

_ Okay, he’s this kind of asshole. _

She shrugged. “I didn’t, really.”

The dark-haired man at the corner of the room shifted. She could hear the floorboards creaking beneath him. She didn’t let her eyes dart over, away from Erwin’s gaze.

“I’m curious, though,” Weber said, from a chair behind Katrine. “How much gas did you end up using?”

Katrine turned to him. “A third.”

“Shit! That’s incredible. How’d you manage that?”

“Ah, no offense, but a lot of you seem inefficient with the gas usage.”

“So then, Katrine, what are your suggestions for improving gas conservancy?” Erwin asked. His face was still neutral but there was something in his eye hinting that he was amused.

Katrine raised an eyebrow. “Well, Erwin, if you point your toes, you can go _ anywhere _.”

Miche immediately stepped forward, but Weber laughed. Erwin held a hand up to stop Miche.

“Doing that all on open ground is impressive, though. Veterans even have a hard time with that,” he said.

“Scouts do go for Titans’ eyes, though your method is certainly new. And I don’t think we’ve ever used it as a preventative measure,” Section Leader Engel said, moving forward from where she was gazing out the window. “It’s an interesting strategy.”

“It certainly is,” Erwin said, leaning back in his chair.

This was going horribly wrong. She’d let her ego get the better of her, when her strategy should have been to stay meek and quiet. 

“It’s a stupid idea, Erwin, and if you let anyone depend on this they’ll get killed,” the man in the corner said, voice sharp.

“Point taken, Levi,” Erwin said.

Humanity’s Greatest himself, hiding in a corner like some kind of hideous spider. She thought the rumors of his strength were overblown, but they really weren’t kidding about his height. The way he had slaughtered that Titan before was impressive, but certainly other people could do the same? And why was he wary of a recruit like her?

“Yeah, listen to him, he knows what he’s talking about,” she said, pointing behind her but still looking at Erwin.

“If you have to cut a cable to keep going, it’s a shit strategy,” Levi said. 

“Ah, forgive my ignorance, but isn’t that why we have two?”

Katrine heard the creaking floorboards again, indicating Levi had shifted forward, but Erwin shot him a tired look and there was a sigh as he leaned back against the wall. She could feel his eyes drilling into the back of her skull, though.

“So, you wouldn’t do this again?” Erwin asked.

“What I’m gonna do is stay _ really _far away from Titans,” Katrine said.

Weber barked a laugh. “Good luck with that!”

“Well, since Hanna is no longer with us, I’m going to be taking you, Sara, and Henry,” Engel said. “And personally I’m pretty interested in how this works. So, I’m excited to work with you, Katrine.” She smiled.

Katrine didn’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed.

“I think that’s all we need from you, Katrine. You are dismissed,” Erwin said, rising from his chair. Katrine stood too, unsure of what the Commander was thinking. He looked like he had his mind on whatever was next on his list, but she knew he wouldn’t forget this.

Katrine remembered that she should salute him, but instead she kept her arms straight at her sides, fingernails digging into her palms. She pivoted on one heel and stalked towards the door, but before her hand caught the doorknob she felt eyes on her skin, and she looked at Levi in the corner, lounging against the walls, arms crossed. Before she could prevent her eyes narrowing and lips parting, Katrine realized she recognized him. 

* * *

While the rest of the Scouts were in the mess hour devouring their dinners, Katrine hid in her bunk, the top one in the corner of the women’s barracks. She was avoiding her punishment of washing dishes for “speaking to the Commander without the proper amount of respect,” but also Sara’s bloodshot eyes.

She heard footsteps beneath her but remained curled in a ball under her quilt, perfectly still.

“Katrine? Are you awake?” It was Charlotte.

“Don’t bother her, Charlotte, she’s asleep.” It was Sara’s voice, strained, like it took her a massive amount of effort to choke out the words.

Something pricked at the back of Katrine’s throat. She wanted to be alone, but she knew she would feel even worse if she left the two of them abandoned and alone.

“I’m awake. Why aren’t you eating with the rest of them?” Katrine asked, poking her head out of her cocoon.

Sara didn’t look at her, but instead stared out the window at the inky sky. “I can’t,” she muttered. Charlotte put a hand on Sara’s shoulder, but she too looked ashen.

“Sara, really, it wasn’t your fault Larissa died,” Katrine said.

Sara blinked, hard. Tears were forming.

“Think about it, if even Levi didn’t get to her in time, then no one would.” 

Sara closed her eyes and swallowed, loud, but she nodded. She opened her eyes again and looked up at her, and Katrine saw resolve hardening in her green eyes.

“Can we come up?” Charlotte asked.

Katrine clenched her fists, because she really didn’t want to talk about this, but she knew she couldn’t say no to the two of them, whose friend had been snatched away in an instant. She shifted towards the headboard and the women climbed up.

“Katrine, Charlotte and I were talking earlier, and, I mean, I feel so guilty that I wasn’t looking out for Larissa. I should have seen her earlier. I just feel like I should have known,” Sara said, more force behind her words.

“But how could you? She was in a different group,” Katrine said.

“I don’t know, but I should have.” Sara hugged her knees to her chest. The three were silent, not meeting each other’s eyes.

“Katrine, I know you probably don’t, but do you remember after the winter training I was so hungry I stole two loaves of bread?” Charlotte asked, a distant smile on her face. “And when Instructor Voth noticed it was gone you said you’d stolen it, and he made you chop wood outside for hours?”

“I remember that, Charlotte, because it was freezing!” 

Charlotte laughed, but her face turned blotchy. “You never told me why you did that,” she said.

Katrine shrugged. “I got in trouble for so much, one more thing didn’t really matter.”

“But you always looked out for us. And we weren’t looking out for Larissa. That’s why she died,” Sara said. The three were silent again. Katrine fingered her threadbare blanket.

Suddenly, Sara shot forward, landing on her hands and knees too close to Katrine’s face.

“We have to promise each other, Katrine! That we’re going to look out for each other, no matter what happens here! I don’t want to end up like the veterans who sit alone because all their friends are dead,” she said, words hard and firm.

Charlotte nodded. “We’re going to live, all of us, and in twenty years we can scare the recruits with horror stories. Who knows, maybe things will be better then. Besides, Katrine, you always kept an eye out for us, so we’re going to do the same,” she said. 

“But that-”

“No! Don’t brush it off like you always do!” Sara said, voice rising.

_ But I didn’t mean to be looking out for you. That wasn’t the point. _Katrine grit her teeth, trying to figure out what to say.

“Look, we don’t have to swear on it or anything, I-”

Sara snatched Katrine’s hand. Her palm was clammy.

“I’m going to make sure you live,” Sara said, eyes wide, irises boring into her so deeply that Katrine was afraid she could read her thoughts. Katrine leaned back and swallowed hard, but Sara turned away and gave the same look to Charlotte. Charlotte bowed her head and took Katrine’s other hand and Sara’s into her own.

“But...” Katrine began, but her voice faded when the two looked back at her. In their eyes she saw fear, anxiety, and a desperate need for safety.

_ I can’t do this again. _ But she said the words.

“I’ll make sure you live, too.”

Sara smiled, relieved. “I feel so much better,” she said, and flopped onto her side. “But I’m so tired!” She yawned and threw Katrine’s blanket over herself.

“Me too,” Charlotte said, moving up to Katrine’s pillow and taking the other half of the blanket, so Katrine was sandwiched between them. She touched Katrine’s shoulder lightly. “Thank you,” she said, and closed her eyes.

Katrine lay between them, hours marching by, through the end of dinner and free time and when the other female Scouts came in for bed, filling the room with chatter. She berated herself for not having the guts to tell off Sara and Charlotte, to make them leave her alone. She tried to distract herself by listing every plant she could think of, down the alphabet, but her thoughts kept trailing back to her cowardice, Larissa’s death, and the promise she shouldn’t have made.

When the moon was high above her window and she was certain the other Scouts were asleep, Katrine rose and slowly climbed out of her bunk, careful not to wake Sara and Charlotte. At the floor she found her pack, and in the weak moonlight she searched for and found the shoes. She was out of the barracks in seconds, soundless across the wooden floors, and vanished into the night air.

* * *

Levi sat outside, night air chilling his lungs, because that girl’s face refused to leave his mind.

He’d known before he even got there that the recruit was a goner, that he wouldn’t get there in time to do anything meaningful, but he’d tried anyway. He always did because maybe, that one time, his judgment could be off.

However, moving the Scouts thirty kilometers to Hast Fortress with minor casualties, especially with twenty new recruits, was a relief. Erwin’s long distance scouting formation had worked out its kinks and was beginning to run smoothly with regularity. When his squad at the front had encountered Titans, they’d avoided most and cut through others easily, but the one recruit that had been separated from her group hadn’t been so lucky.

Her mistake was understandable, but fatal. Though he knew it was pointless, Levi always felt guilty the first night after these mistakes happened.

After the expedition, though, Levi was almost certain that the blonde cadet was completely deranged. Katrine, he remembered. Sure, her victory at the Royale had been entertaining, but in no way indicative of skill, and the way she’d flung herself in the air depending on a half-baked idea was insane. All three of those recruits should be grateful they weren’t killed.

And Katrine wasn’t grateful she lived. No, she seemed irritated, and unwilling to cooperate with Erwin. He’d considered stepping forward and kicking her in the back of the head after she’d given a snide explanation, but Erwin seemed curious for some reason, so he’d stayed back.

In spite of his distaste for her, when he found himself not thinking about the dead cadet’s broken back, he saw Katrine suspended in the air, knees to her chest and arms bent at her sides, as if she could put one foot down and stand on the wind.

“On the 99th Corps’ final exam, there was a part where they measured how far the Cadets could get through Klippe Pass on on one tank of gas. She made it the whole way with gas to spare, and no one else even made it halfway,” Engel had told them in Erwin’s office.

“Damn! That’s at least ten kilometers!” Weber exclaimed.

Levi had no idea what they were talking about, since he’d never done the training. Most of them seemed to forget that.

Despite its uniqueness, though, her method was still crazy. If she didn’t shoot herself straight into a Titan’s mouth, she’d crash so hard it’d look like one spat her out.

Levi rose to his feet and stepped off the porch onto the grass. He walked into the trees, feet crunching softly against the already dewy grass. It was still hot in the daytime but it was turning to that time of year when the nights grew cooler and darkness fell a little earlier. Levi preferred the cold air because it smelled cleaner, crisper, but he ventured outside at night in any temperature.

He stopped, enveloped by trees, the rustling leaves whispering in his ears. Dropping his head back he gazed at the sky, an inky black pricked with light, surrounding a half-full moon. Levi always made sure to take in the stars whenever the Scouts went on an expedition, because it was harder to see how brilliant they were in the cities where other lights competed. He also thought that he needed to get as much of it as he could, to make up for lost time, and because he knew so many people who’d died without ever seeing it.

Levi shifted suddenly, eyes narrowing. There was an unnatural noise coming from his left, one previously disguised by the wind but now an obvious imposter.

He stepped forward, then took another, hair rising on the back of his neck when he saw a white flash.

The movement stopped, and he froze, thinking whatever it was had seen him, and he dropped to the ground, peering behind a trunk, staring at a smooth patch of dirt surrounded by trees.

It was her, the one from before. Katrine.

She stood, motionless, with both arms high above her, wrists bent as if the weight of her hands were too much to bear. Somehow she was balanced on the tips of her toes, encased in glossy satin shoes, appearing as if the slightest gust of wind would knock her over. Levi couldn’t even tell if her chest was moving. Bathed in the weak moonlight, dressed in something white and drapey, she looked like one of the marble statues he saw outside of churches, mournful women staring at the horizon for eternity.

Katrine looked to the sky, too, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. She looked like she was peering at the moon through her fingers, almost hiding her face from it, shy. Here she appeared distant, dreamy, completely unlike before where she had narrowed, suspicious eyes and tense shoulders.

The only reason he knew for certain she wasn’t one of those statutes was the harsh slash of red at her mouth.

Suddenly she sprang away, one leg extended straight in front of her, like a doe when she noticed the Scouts’ horses. She landed on the point of one foot, then the other, and her arms descended to her sides, straight out, muscles taut between her shoulders. They looked like wings, and despite her small frame they seemed like those from a hawk, powerful and sweeping.

Katrine spun, twice, three times, one foot drifting behind the other, to some rhythm he couldn’t hear or even imagine, the only sounds the toes of her shoes scraping against the dirt and her small sharp breaths.

Levi could count all the beautiful things he’d seen on one hand, and none of those were humans. Stained glass was one, and the sun rising over fields of snow, but not people. He’d thought for a long time that people were incapable of doing anything beautiful because most of the things that benefitted them were ugly.

This, though, was unlike anything he’d ever seen, or even knew someone could do. She looked weightless, like she danced on air, and had such precision that no movement was wasted. And then it all made sense, and he could see how she’d cut through five Titans without so much as a scratch. Because while everyone else just used ODM gear to get themselves from one surface to another, Katrine used it to fly.

People liked to say that he could use the ODM to fly, but Levi didn’t agree with them. He always thought he was too violent, more like a bullet or something that screamed through the air, unstoppable. Flying meant that you floated, gazing at the silent world beneath you, considering if it was even worth it to come back down. That was what he’d seen her do, craning his neck from the ground, covered in Titan blood.

Katrine lunged forward, shifting from delicate to forceful, and took a few quick steps. She leapt into the air, one leg curled behind her, head back. She landed on one foot without looking at the ground, arms no longer mimicking flight but protecting her chest. He saw that her expression had changed from dazed to determined, though there was also a hint of unease, something frenzied that her feet betrayed.

Balanced on the same toe, she lifted her other leg into the air, impossibly straight, arms extended into wings again. But she tipped too far forward, tempting gravity, and collapsed out of the position onto her knees. 

“Shit!” Katrine snapped.

The spell was broken. All the air in Levi’s lungs rushed out at once, too loud, and he slapped a hand to his mouth. He’d tensed his muscles for however long he’d been there, he had no idea, and it felt like every one of them was vibrating.

Katrine didn’t notice; she bent over her legs and slapped her thighs, huffing. She rose to her feet and peered down at the place where she’d fallen, tapped one shoe on the ground, and tested her weight on one pointed toe. She extended her leg up, searched for balance, but dropped to her feet again. A pensive noise escaped her throat and she rested both hands on her head. He saw that same annoyed expression from before in Erwin’s office.

Katrine walked back to the center of her patch of ground and rose to her toes. She lifted both hands again, shielding herself from the moon. The muscles in her face slackened and the spellbound look returned.

Levi remained, still crouched behind a tree, captivated. He understood now, how she not only survived the Titans but defied them, though not why she felt the need to deny it.


	4. Chapter 4

_ Year 850: Four days after the Invasion of Stohess District _

Levi leaned against the cold wall of a warehouse, shrouded in darkness, and watched Katrine dance in the moonlight. It was not the first time, and he knew that for as long as they were both alive, it wouldn’t be the last. He hadn’t quite accepted it, though, and afterwards he always made sure to bleach the filthiest corner he could find until the fumes made him dizzy.

He’d been scrubbing the sill of the bathroom window when he had looked up by chance and saw Katrine walking down the deserted street. Her pace was clipped and her head set ahead; if he’d looked up a second later he’d have missed her. He was out the door in moments, following her, watching the jaundiced glow of the streetlights turn her hair gold. Again, Kenny’s insight on how to trail people without them noticing proved useful, though certainly not for the purpose the old man intended. When he reached the cluster of warehouses and found his place in the shadows, Levi realized he was still clutching the cleaning brush in his hand.

He hadn’t thought much about Katrine for the six months she was gone, because whenever she crawled into his mind he shoved her back into his unconsciousness to collect dust, to sit among his collection of things to ignore. He was good at that, an expert at boxing up things he didn’t want to think about and leaving them to rot in the recesses of his mind.

And then a few months later, Titans attacked Trost and an intelligent Titan finally decided to make himself known, and Levi had time for nothing else. Eren Jaeger was a handful on his own, and adding in Erwin’s new strategies and the fact that there was another sentient, hostile Titan aiming to demolish them, Katrine languished in that dark corner with memories of dead comrades and hungry nights. But it wasn’t until two days after he sprained his ankle, as he lay in bed with his foot propped up seething at the doctor’s order for bedrest, he’d fallen asleep and dreamed of her. There was nothing else, no Titans, just an endless expanse of black and Katrine flying through, dressed in red and her face a dazzling white. Blood on snow.

He’d woken up freezing, hands twitching, despite the humid air seeping through his open window. It had only happened once, and when he woke up every morning after he felt a tiny edge of disappointment that it hadn’t happened again.

The arm pressed against the stone wall was falling asleep and cold needles pricked his shoulder, but Levi didn’t move.

The full moon shone high in the sky, casting triangular shadows onto Katrine’s face. Clad in black and hair pulled in a severe bun, she looked malevolent. Despite the trails of sweat streaming down her back, he imagined she would feel cold as granite. She looked thinner than he remembered, but harder, like she’d gouged out any bit of softness she had left. He’d anticipated that she’d be angry and cruel when she returned, but there was an unfamiliar and unsettling feeling lingering like smoke at the back of his throat. Only a few hours ago when she strode in and drew her claws he realized that another person he’d inched ever so slightly towards over days and months and years was gone, and not because of their death but because of his own mistake.

Katrine moved fluidly, but there was a look of steely concentration in her eyes that he only saw when she was figuring out a way to weasel out of some responsibility. He was used to seeing a dreamy expression, dazed, like she was somewhere else entirely, unreachable. He only saw that look when she danced, and he always wondered,  _ where do you go? How do you fly away when gravity still pulls you back down? _

Erwin told him after Hange’s captured Titans were killed that he was calling Katrine back from that bullshit mission that was really just a money grab: send a team of Scouts to re-secure the underground route to a profitable iceburst mine, and the Scouts get funding for an expedition. Levi didn’t question his decision since Erwin understood how to play that game, but he hadn’t thought much about what would happen when that mission was completed. Rather, he hadn’t allowed himself to think about it. 

If Levi hadn’t sprained his ankle, because of that child so desperate to save her brother that she’d put everyone in danger without thinking, then he’d still be on the front lines. There would be so many ways to avoid her. But a mission with just the two of them, spying on a church of all places, was absurdly unlucky. It was like he was being placed in the palm of her hand, in the perfect position for her to give him that mean wolfish grin and hurl barbs at him that probably had some double meaning he wouldn’t understand.

He didn’t know what she wanted, and if it was an apology, whatever he said would never sound right, so there was no point in trying. 

Just as suddenly as she leapt from one foot to the other, she stopped, arms thrust behind her, head bowed. She was completely still, unyielding, as firm as if she were planted in the soil below her. To Levi’s untrained eye she appeared to hit everything perfectly, even that impossibly difficult one where she brought one leg to the back of her head and somehow spun perfectly balanced on the other toe. He had no idea how it was possible, and Katrine often fell out of it, cursing and kicking at the ground. This time, there was nothing to fix, everything was already flawless; she’d probably already moved off his level and even higher, so high they were no longer breathing the same air.

Katrine made a hissing noise loud enough for him to hear and moved one arm forward to point menacingly at her forward leg. She bared her teeth. 

“Stupid!” She slapped the offending foot on the soil, sighing like it had greatly disappointed her.

The tightened muscles in his chest eased a bit. Maybe she hadn’t reverted back to all sharp edges. Despite the fact that she might only show him those sharp edges, the person he once knew was still there, hidden away somewhere; he hadn’t killed that person after all. 

Levi didn’t realize how relieved he was until he heard the thud of the brush on the ground and felt his empty hand grasp at air.

_ Shit! _

Katrine’s head snapped forward and she glared in his direction, but didn’t move. From his place in the darkness he couldn’t tell if she saw him and he froze, breath caught in his throat, hand still in the angry shape of a claw.

Levi was confident that he’d hidden himself and doubted she saw him, but a nervous surge still barreled down his spine. There was that dread again, buried in the pit of his stomach, almost the same he felt when going on dangerous missions where he had to look out for other people. But it was ridiculous. No one was going to die; why did he feel like something just as bad could happen?

The feeling remained, spiting all logic to the contrary. 

Levi didn’t want her to know, because he couldn’t speak to her alone just yet. He needed the extra night, and to see her hands look delicate before they tried to strangle him.

* * *

Katrine knew Levi preferred setting out right after the sun rose, so she made sure to remain curled under her blanket for an hour after she saw the first rays through her bedroom window.

Laying on her side, Katrine squeezed her knees so close to her chest that she had trouble breathing. There was a crack of light at the edge of her cocoon, illuminating the tiny face of the doll from Utopia. Katrine had found it near the bottom of her bag when she’d carefully repacked her shoes; it was lying on the green book, expression banal, as if waiting patiently for her to return to read it. She’d completely forgotten about both and felt a little guilty, because the little doll had protected her from a violent river and an even more dangerous Scout.

She fingered the doll, sliding its face in and out of the crack of sunlight, and hoped that it would release more of whatever its lucky power was. Hopefully she hadn’t used up all of it just yet, and that it was worth more than a few good insults thrown the night before.

Anxiety buzzed in her skull. She was out of Utopia, out of her routine, and despite its dullness, her routine never turned on her. There were multiple Titan Shifters and Wall Rose was breached. Mila, Sara, and Elisabeth were gone, out of her control and in someone else’s possibly incapable hands. She was going to be taking an unwanted trip to Stohess with a priest and Levi, and somehow, the priest was the least of her concerns.

Scowling, Katrine jabbed the doll harder. A tiny sliver of hay poked out its belly, nicking the pad of her finger. She groaned, loud and obnoxious, for a few long moments. Kicking the blanket off, she rolled out of bed. After dressing and meticulously braiding her hair, scrutinizing her face in the mirror, Katrine grabbed the bag she’d packed the night before and trudged down the stairs into the brisk morning air. 

The street outside the Scouts’ headquarters was unfortunately quiet. Shielding her eyes against the sun, Katrine scanned the road and found a horse and wagon outside the stables. She saw the priest first, a tall, wiry man with close-cropped hair and a wary expression. Levi stood before the horse, feeding it an apple, and he turned when he heard the door shut behind her.

“Took you long enough,” he said.

Katrine clenched her fists. She’d wanted more time to prepare.

“You’re lucky I decided to show up,” she called back.

Levi shrugged and turned back to the horse.

Katrine frowned and began the long, silent trek over to them, and every step was scraping and deafening. When she was close enough to really see the priest’s face, she saw that his eyes were sunken so far into his skull that they looked completely black. He had deep wrinkles creased in his forehead, those of an old man, but he looked too sure on his feet to be much older than forty. There was a gloominess about him that made Katrine worry he might throw himself under the wheels of the carriage. 

She plastered a smile on her face. “Good morning! I’m Captain Katrine Casimir, which is a mouthful, so call me Katrine. You must be Nate. I’ve heard so much about you and I’m just so impressed that I am personally escorting you back to Stohess!” She thrust out her palm, fingers outstretched, for the man to shake. 

Irritation flashed across his face, but he pursed his lips and shook her hand, firm, but like he didn’t want to fully grasp her palm.

“It’s Nick. Pastor Nick to you,” he said.

Katrine slapped a hand to her cheek. “How foolish of me, I’m so terribly sorry! I’m sure you-”

“If you want to talk, get in the wagon,” Levi said. He was already in the driver’s seat, reins in hand.

Katrine’s falsely cheery expression dropped and she felt her lip curl, but stopped it in time before Nick could notice. She reminded herself to smile again. 

“It would be a very boring ride without me, Nick, because if you’re looking for pleasant conversation, you won’t find it there,” Katrine said, gesturing with her thumb at Levi. She swept her arm in a grand motion to the cart and smiled even wider. “After you!”

Nick climbed into the wagon and sat down gingerly, but turned to eye Levi at the front of the cart. Levi stared right back at him, unwavering, and the priest dropped his gaze. The heavy medallions around his neck appeared to crush his spine and he sank further into himself.  _ Perfect _ , Katrine thought as she threw herself into the seat across from Nick, causing a satisfying creak. She crossed her legs and rested both arms at the edges of the wagon, taking up as much space as possible.

“Now, Rick, I’m not sure what you’ve been told since our gallant commander operates on a need-to-know basis, but some very important people in the MPs have demanded your safe return to Stohess. Now I thought it was very kind of us Scouts to pluck you out of the rubble and keep you safe from looting and whatever unsavory business happens after a Titan attacks. Can you even imagine what awful things are happening there right now?”

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed. His dark, beady eyes reminded her of a possum.

“ _ Nick _ . The people of Stohess have enough supplies to keep them afloat.”

“Sure, but I heard that there are Titans in the walls, and they’re just peering down on all the people there! Apparently they’re asleep or something, but what if they wake up hungry and want some breakfast?” Katrine pinched her fingers and plucked at the air.

“That’s impossible,” Nick said.

Katrine dropped her hand. “How do you know?”

Nick’s lips pursed, but Katrine could see his throat constrict in a hard swallow.

“It is not a matter for those outside the Church to know,” he said. The answer sounded rehearsed. Katrine nodded like it was completely understandable.

“So, Nick, you always live in Stohess?” Katrine asked. 

“No. Those in the Church have no permanent residence,” Nick said.

“Ah, but there’s always a place you’ll call home, right? I’m sent all over with the Scouts but I’ll always be from Mitras.” She smiled without teeth, disguising the bitter taste in her mouth.

“Shiganshina.” 

Katrine gasped. “You were in Shiganshina too?” She leaned forward and gaped, eyes wide. “So it’s entirely possible that  _ you  _ were the one who orchestrated the attacks on the districts?”

“W-what? Of course not-”

“Oh my God, of course that’s what you’d say, but what are the odds that you survive not only one but  _ two _ ? That’s astronomical! Thousands of people die, but not only do you survive but you make it to another district that gets attacked!”

“No, you idiot, that’s completely absurd!” Nick was sputtering, beads of sweat forming at his temples.

“So that’s why the MPs want you, to know how you turned two people into Titans that were smart enough to destroy cities?”

“No!” Nick spat the word out. “They want me to-” He cut himself off, teeth clenched. He folded his arms and turned his head away.

Katrine was silent too, considering her next move. It was strange that the MPs wanted anything to do with this man, a religious fanatic that should be left to his prayers and proselytizing. And why did they want him in particular, and not any other priest? Hange told her the night before that Nick was adamant about covering up the Titans in the walls, but he’d traveled to Ehrmich of his own free will because he wanted to see the refugees. And for a priest of a religion that claimed humans were impure beings, why did he seem so interested in the refugees? It was time to make him uncomfortable.

She bent to rummage inside her bag and pulled out the half-full bottle of whiskey she’d swiped the night before after her conversation with Hange. She’d told her that Nick lost his wife and children due to alcoholism and claimed the Wall Cult had cured him, but Katrine knew those kinds of habits never died.

“God, look at this scenery, so boring! It’s all open land and trees. It’s not even noon and I’m about to fall asleep. You know, you’d be shocked at how terrible the whiskey is up north.” Katrine pulled the cork out of the bottle and brought it to her lips, mimicking drinking and swallowing but not allowing any into her mouth. She sighed loudly and smacked her lips, pleased at Nick’s stiff back and clenched hands.

“You want some?” she asked, waving the bottle in Nick’s face.

He hesitated for a moment. “No, thank you,” he said, pressing himself further into his seat.

“Suit yourself,” she said, and took another fake swig. Katrine could feel Levi’s eyes on her for the first time since they’d headed out; he’d kept his head forward since then. She refused to meet his gaze, but there was a tiny flicker at the bottom of her stomach that was impossible to ignore.

“So, did you watch your family die in Shiganshina?” Katrine ran one finger down the neck of the bottle. She watched the blood drain from Nick’s face.

“How did you...know?” His voice was strained.

“My good friend Hange told me. So did they die there? I imagine it would be difficult to be a priest and a family man at the same time,” she said.

“No,” Nick whispered. He spoke towards his feet and she could barely hear him over the rattle of the wheels.

“So you have no idea if they lived or died?”

“They died. I saw their names on the lists.” 

Katrine was silent for a few moments, and held out the bottle to Nick.

“Sure you don’t want some?”

Nick snatched the bottle from her but didn’t meet her gaze. She didn’t need to look in his eyes to see the shame on his face. When he passed the bottle back Katrine noticed it was much lighter. There was a wet sheen to his lips that disgusted her, but she refused to show any sign of it. She waited for the first signs of red on his cheeks.

“You know, you might be able to consider yourself lucky,” she said. “Sometimes I wonder if it would be better to die there than to be sent off to starve in the operation to retake Wall Maria.”

Nick spun to face her, and his eyes were so wide she could see the whites of his eyes for the first time. “How dare you speak that way! Shiganshina was decimated. People were slaughtered right before my eyes, entire families destroyed in an instant. You talk of luck like something so fleeting was there that day. You’d never understand if you haven’t seen your own family killed like that!” He was nearly shouting. “You hold your tongue and pray to Sina for forgiveness.”

Katrine stared at Nick, eyes narrowed, giving him enough time to start worrying about what was going to come out of her mouth next. With her eyes still on him, Katrine raised the bottle to her lips and took another fake swig at the bottle, pretending to drink deeply. She lowered it slowly, and dragged one finger under her lip to catch any drops.

“I do understand, Nick. One of my friends, more like a sister, died right in front of me. It was horrible, so much screaming, blood everywhere,” she said, keeping her voice low and soft. “I had nightmares for weeks. Actually, she was a member of the Cult.” Katrine leaned forward to rest her cheek in her hand, and she let her eyes drift away as if in a trance. 

“Who?” he asked.

“Died in Stohess, now that I remember,” she said, twisting the bottle in her fingers.

The angry flush on Nick’s face was receding, replaced with white. “Who?” he repeated. He leaned forward to take the bottle from her and sucked down more of the whiskey.

“Cecily. Cecily Duma.”

Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Heard about her. She was a whore,” he said, derision dripping from his voice. “One of those  _ dancers  _ in the C-Capital.” His words sounded thick.

Katrine recoiled. “That’s a cruel thing to say, especially for a priest. She was such a sweet girl.” That was a lie, since Cecily was prickly and arrogant but had crashed to her knees by falling pregnant.

“And how’d y’know this woman?”

“Danced together.”

“Should’ve known, only whores wear red.”

Katrine raised an eyebrow. “I am wearing the uniform of the greatly esteemed and respected Survey Corps. Nothing but neutrals on me, Rick.”

The priest jabbed a finger at her face, and momentarily she feared he would poke her eye out.

“Oh, no, that’s not ‘red,’ it’s called ‘Everlasting Romance,’ and you can actually only get it in Stohess so guess you figured out the reason I’m  _ really  _ here.” Katrine shrugged ruefully. “And to lay some flowers on Cecily’s grave.”

“Died in childbirth. Lamentable but...natural.” Nick took another swig from the bottle after he pushed out the last word, which seemed to take him a few moments to remember.

“It’s not natural to run through the streets in the middle of the night while in labor, screaming that the Church was going to take her baby away.”

“Hysteria’s commonplace in women.”

Katrine resisted the urge to punch him. “I’d be hysterical too if four priests dragged me kicking and screaming into the cathedral.” 

“Preposterous!” Nick shouted. “The Church would never use such methods of violence!” 

Katrine raised her voice too. “And then after you cut the baby out of her, she found the strength to stagger out the cathedral dripping blood and curse the Cult with her dying breath!”

It was another lie. Katrine hadn’t been there when Cecily died; she’d only heard exaggerated tales from the other girls who hadn’t been there either. She would never forget, though, the gutted look on Valeria’s face and how she’d withered away afterwards. Katrine wasn’t terribly affected by Cecily’s death since the girl was infuriating, but she’d known something was rotten. There was a reason why Cecily had written those panicked letters to Valeria, and why Valeria had begged each of them for whatever money they could spare.

Nick dropped the bottle from his mouth to bark a laugh. “That’d never happen.”

“Really? Which part? Because I read all of that in the newspapers.” There was only a passing sentence regarding Cecily’s death.

The veins in his neck were pulsing. “Whatever drivel you read couldn’t possibly have the whole story. The Church welcomes unwed mothers with open arms, despite their sins.” He fell forward, nearly sliding off his seat. “I’ll disregard your comment about harming children because it is ludicrous, and we would never allow a woman to run through a public space and scare parishioners when there’s a private exit!” 

“A private exit! How luxurious. I’m sure you have ‘private exits’ to the ladies’ baths too.” Katrine winked. 

“You imply the Church would take part in such sins? It is kept in the neighboring pharmacy for convenience, not such  _ mischief  _ as you suggest!” Nick’s voice was condescending. “Though I can’t say someone like you would know any better.” He threw her a smug smile.

Katrine shrugged. “Someone like me does know there’s another way in.”

Nick was poised to say something, but he immediately shut his mouth to reconsider. The smile was gone and the fingers that gripped the bottle grew white.

“Why’re you so concerned? The Scouts never had any interest before.”

Katrine saw she needed to deflect. “I want to find the place where Cecily spent her last moments. I think her spirit is restless, so maybe she needs a candle. Do you think the cathedral has some to spare?”

“So, whores have decency too!” The smirk returned. “Unfortunately it was destroyed, but you may always light a candle in the Cathedral for those lost.”

“Shame! I would’ve loved to know what kind of things you priests get up to in your secret passageways. Don’t you get worried someone’ll poke around just to see?” Katrine smiled, benign, as she watched the bottle in Nick’s hand tremble.

“It’s buried,” he said, with certainty. It seemed he was saying it more to convince himself than her. “You won’t find anything.”

“Nothing can stay buried forever. And you can underestimate me all you want, but he’s the smart one.” Katrine tilted her head towards Levi. He didn’t turn, but Katrine knew he’d heard every word. She watched a shudder shoot down Nick’s spine.

“I’ll tell the MPs you’re sniffing around.”

“No you won’t, then they’d ask how I found out. I promise, I just want to light a candle.” She pointed at the bottle of whiskey still in his hand. “You can have the rest.”

* * *

“I would thank you for returning Pastor Nick, but you did kidnap the man,” the stout MP said, mouth twisted in a sneer. Nick was at his side, whimpering, face still flushed from the alcohol. It was pathetic.

Levi shrugged, arms crossed. “We didn’t force him, it was his choice.”

The MP placed his hands on his substantial hips, blocking the entrance to Edelweiss Cathedral. He glared at Levi, and Levi returned the look. The two were near opposites of each other; the MP was ruddy and sweating while Levi was stony. Though Levi always looked bored, the dull sheen in his dark eyes suggested he found the exchange beneath him. Katrine blinked and realized she was staring at him; folding her arms tighter, she forced her eyes to the MP.

“I’m not shocked to see the Survey Corps resort to kidnapping, but really, a priest? Can’t say I understand that commander of yours,” he said, arms raised in mock confusion.

“I doubt you’d have the brainpower for it,” Levi said.

“I have enough brainpower to know it’s stupid to run around asking to become Titan chow.” 

Levi gave an exaggerated appraisal of the man. “You wouldn’t last one day.”

“Of course,  _ you  _ wouldn’t know, but only the top ten graduates of the Training Corps are allowed to enter the MPs,” the man said, chin raised. “I don’t need to prove anything to you or Titans.”

“It’d be great if you did, because you could feed three of them for a week,” Levi said.

The MP grit his teeth so hard Katrine was certain she could hear it; his already flushed face was growing redder. He took a step forward, a heavy boot scraping against the ground. Levi, however, hadn’t moved from his spot and was threateningly calm.

“Look at this place. You Scouts let a Titan in and half of this is wrecked,” the MP said, jabbing a finger at the wreckage near the cathedral. “We finally got most of the looting under control and the displaced have shelter. This was all thanks to the MPs and our hard work. We’re more useful to humanity than anything the Scouts have ever done.”

“Really brave of you and the MPs, shows real...gut,” Levi said, eyeing the man’s considerable belly.

Katrine bit down hard on her lip and covered her mouth as casually as possible to prevent herself from giggling like a goddamn fool. There were men with silver tongues, and she’d met many of them, but whatever Levi had was the violent opposite. His words were brutal and biting, but clever. He was simultaneously blunt and sharp; she’d never encountered anything like it before. It was vicious, and just as sexy as she remembered.

“Go find a dog to lick your ass clean,” the MP snarled.

“Luckily there’s one right in front of me,” Levi said.

“Okay, okay, can we quit it with the dick measuring contest? You got your priest.” Katrine was sorry to stop the argument because she would love to let it escalate, but their mission was to infiltrate that very cathedral and it was best to not draw attention. And she needed to stop admiring anything about Levi.

The MP looked at her, eyes narrowed. “Don’t think I don’t know about you.”

“I’m sorry?” Katrine adopted a surprised expression.

“Everyone knows to watch out for  _ you _ . There’s been enough wallets stolen by some tricky Scout.”

“That’s ridiculous! Are you calling me a criminal?” Katrine could feel Levi’s eyes burning her skin and it took all her concentration to keep looking at the MP.

“A pickpocket, so yeah, I am. Two of my buddies’ wallets got stolen by a girl who looks a lot like you.”

“If they’re as hideous as you are, then I definitely had nothing to do with it,” Katrine said, momentarily enjoying the venom in her mouth, but was flooded with regret when the MP stepped forward again with even more force.  _ So much for a low profile. _

“Hey,” Levi said, hand raised. “You don’t want blood outside a church, do you?” His voice was deeper than before and hinted at violence.

The MP scowled, but turned around and grabbed Nick’s arm. “The Scouts’ll be done for in a month. Take my word for it,” he said as he threw open the cathedral doors and dragged Nick inside.

“Lovely talking to you, Nate! Let’s do it again sometime!” Katrine waved at Nick, who kept his head down. The solid wooden doors shut behind them.

“Nice job there,” she immediately said, eyes still on the doors. She needed to get the first word in.

“The MPs are all shit, don’t need to treat them any better than that,” Levi said, gaze on the cathedral as well. 

It was back to that unspoken game, the one she only played with him, where they’d trade insults without eye contact and whoever looked first lost. She always lost. Every time Katrine wondered if it was a game to him too, or if it was just another conversation he wanted to end.

“Did you have to make it so obvious we hate them?” she asked.

“Not like you did any better, sticky fingers.” 

She huffed. “That’s just a dirty rumor.” 

“Not a rumor if it’s true.”

Katrine bit down on the tip of her tongue, the best way to keep her concentration without making it clear that she was struggling. He wasn’t even looking at her, though. She glared so hard at the cathedral doors that her eyes began to sting.

“Sure hope he’s okay in there, and that Erwin didn’t send a priest off to his demise,” she said.

“Whatever’s in there really can’t be worse than a carriage ride stuck talking to you,” he said.

“I got him to spill. You would have cut his tongue off first.”

“Would’ve been less painful for everyone.”

“If this mission is a failure I promise I’ll tell Erwin everything was your fault.”

Levi scoffed. “I’ll tell him you were drunk before noon.”

Before she could stop herself she was facing him, glowering. For a moment she was angrier with herself because she’d lost, again.

“It’s called acting, ever heard of it?” There was a tiny edge of irritation in her voice that was humiliating; she hoped he didn’t hear it. Levi still wasn’t meeting her gaze; he probably hadn’t budged since they’d gotten to the cathedral.

“Yeah, acting like an idiot.”

“Idiots don’t weed out information on secret passageways, which I’d like to find,” she said, and turned hard on one heel to stalk towards the damaged buildings. He followed her, since she hadn’t left him with any other choice, but he was slower than usual due to his sprained ankle. A tiny mean part of her was happy about it.

They walked the stone path snaking around the cathedral, shaded by the massive stone walls and tall spires. Churches by their nature always promised a welcoming environment, but this one was so massive and overbearing that it felt threatening, like it was watching over Stohess. It was also the proud demarcator where the damage from the Female Titan stopped; Erwin had told her that, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite so literal.

Katrine picked through the slabs of granite and broken glass that littered the pathway, careful not to fall but keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Though, everything was suspicious to her.

“God, we’re never gonna find this pharmacy.” Katrine slapped her hands to her cheeks and groaned.

“Don’t be so obvious, they’re probably watching,” Levi said.

Katrine pursed her lips, annoyed, but then kept them pressed to stifle a smile.

“Hey, Levi, it really bugs you, doesn’t it?”

He eyed her. “What?” It was more of a grunt than a question, like he was already regretting answering.

“This...mess. There’s just rubble, and glass, and dirt... _ everywhere _ .” She widened her eyes in mock alarm.

“What do you expect me to do about it?” There was a tiny muscle pulsing at the edge of his jaw.

“Should I anticipate you staying late to help them clean up? It’s a big job.”

“I can’t rebuild an entire district.”

“This glass could cut someone-”

“Shut the fuck up, Katrine.” It came out too fast, too sharp, and Levi glowered at the wreckage. The way he set his jaw made it obvious he hadn’t considered his words and regretted it. Katrine turned away and continued walking forward but allowed herself to grin when she knew he couldn’t see, because she’d finally won something.

They continued ahead, and Katrine noticed that the stone walls of the cathedral were pristine. They were no chips in the rock, no broken windows, and barely any dust. Compared to the debris right next to it, the cathedral looked as if could have been placed there yesterday. Either the cathedral had some priest just as maniacal about cleaning, or something was off.

Just as she stopped to touch the cathedral wall, Levi was right there at her side facing the other way, their shoulders almost touching. Her breath hitched in her throat when she caught his scent, the same as it was before, earthy and like pine. It was a battle to shove the air back into her lungs and she prayed he wouldn’t ask her something because she didn’t think she could answer. 

“At your two o’clock, to the left of the brick one, there’s a building with a mortar and pestle on it,” he said.

Katrine turned, excruciatingly slow, hoping she appeared natural and not like she was berating herself for feeling exactly how she promised she wouldn’t feel. But she looked where he directed and found the building, and sure enough, there was a mortar and pestle painted on the wood. It was dusty and part of it had splintered away. She wouldn’t have found it on her own.

She nodded.

“Seen better days, though,” he said.

“Yeah,” she said. It was all she could think to say.

“We’ll head back here at midnight. You can keep yourself out of trouble until then?”

Katrine’s mind snapped back to attention. “What do you think I’m gonna do, rob the bank?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t put it past you. Though I can’t babysit you, I have errands.”

She snorted. “Sure you do. And I have things to do that don’t involve buying overpriced tea.” She started to walk away because she always needed the last word.

“Wear black,” he called out.

Her nose twitched.  _ Bastard. _

“Black washes me out,” she said over her shoulder, still walking.

* * *

The sun beat down on the broken city, its jagged shadows leaving ominous blotches on the pavement. Katrine strode away with purpose, but once out of sight turned random corners and picked whatever direction suited her at that moment. There was nothing to do but kill time.

After a half hour Katrine stumbled upon a marketplace, still operating despite the damage done the previous week. Granted, she was in the part of town that hadn’t been destroyed, but it was eerily quiet. Too quiet, especially for a city. People spoke in whispers and children were silenced with glares. Everyone was stiff, unnatural, as if they were bracing themselves for another onslaught.

Katrine stood before a fruit stand, considering buying a peach and measuring the probability that she would chip a tooth on the pit this very day. It had never happened before, or to anyone she knew, but those things always happened at the most inconvenient times. She would be begging fate at this point. Though, Utopia had only dried fruit, and peaches were in season.

“Katrine Casimir,” a voice said behind her. It was low and certain. 

Katrine spun, immediately suspicious, to find a woman of about her height, heavily pregnant and holding both a sack and the hand of a girl no older than four. The woman was dressed well, but there were fine lines around her eyes and her brown hair looked oily, like it hadn’t been washed. But five years and a few extra pounds couldn’t mask the familiar features. 

“Been a while,” the woman said, approaching her. Katrine had no choice but to answer.

“Josephine. What are you doing in Stohess?” She hoped her voice didn’t betray her surprise.

“I live here. I could ask you the same thing, though I expect it has to do with the Scouts,” Josephine said. “I didn’t expect it to be so jarring to see you in a military uniform.”

“Just about as weird as seeing you with one kid and another on the way. Find the father in Mitras?”

“Found a husband in Mitras, actually.”

“Ah! Guess that’s how you can afford to live here.” She bent down so she was eye level with the girl and smiled.

“Your mom and I knew each other back at the Company a long time ago. What’s your name?”

She squeezed Josephine’s hand tighter and looked down. “Aster.”

“Aster.” Katrine looked up at Josephine. “After the flower?”

“The stars,” Josephine said.

Katrine looked back at Aster. “Both very pretty, but not as much as you,” she said, and tapped Aster on the nose. The girl’s eyes widened.

“Ugh, I need to sit. My feet are killing me,” Josephine said while adjusting the bag of groceries on her hip. 

Katrine rose to her feet and reached for Aster’s other hand, and the three walked towards a bench at the edge of the square. Katrine sat and smiled at Aster, patting the spot next to her. The girl clambered up and covered her mouth with both hands, but curiosity shone in her eyes.

“Tell me, Aster, when’s your mom gonna pop?” She made a noise and flicked her hands at Aster.

She giggled. “Few weeks,” she said.

“Can’t come soon enough,” Josephine said with a groan. “To be honest I’m surprised I didn’t go into labor right when that Titan showed up.”

“Did you see it?” Katrine asked.

“No, it was way over on the eastern side near the wall. Sure felt it, though. And the  _ screaming _ , it was…” She shivered. “Aster couldn’t sleep for the first few days without waking up sobbing. I had to start giving her whiskey in milk. But now I don’t know when we’re getting milk again.” She sighed as if she too hadn’t slept for a week.

Hands on her belly, Josephine eyed Katrine. “Really, why are you here? Don’t you have Titans to kill and government money to waste?”

“Oh no, even better, I was escorting a priest.”

Josephine blinked. “A priest? From the Cult?

“I just follow orders,” Katrine said, shrugging. 

Josephine snorted. “No, you don’t. If there’s something else to it I don’t want to know because those people give me nightmares.” She shuddered, but there was a sly smile on her lips. Katrine waited in anticipation; Josephine always loved gossip.

“Two weeks ago, before all  _ this  _ happened,” she said, jabbing her finger at the stray bricks on the pavement and the broken windows, “I went down to Edelweiss Square because I thought I might actually die if I didn’t eat the fried bread down there.” She gestured to her belly and grimaced. “So I was eating, and then this little boy comes running out of the Cathedral, just screaming his head off. It was like the poor child was being chased by a ghost!”

Katrine shrugged. “Maybe he really didn’t want to go to church.” She was intrigued, though.

“No, what was really weird was that five priests came sprinting after him. And they looked furious, they were yelling so loudly! It was just...unnatural. Five of them for one boy is too much.” Josephine folded her arms. “And when they caught him the boy was still screaming, and they actually dragged him back inside. I’m not exaggerating, I promise, they were dragging him.”

“Promising you’re not exaggerating doesn’t mean you’re not, Josie,” Katrine said.

“Don’t call me that. This boy fought the whole way. I swear I saw blood on the ground when I was walking back,” Josephine said. “No one did anything. I mean, what can you do?”

Katrine made a small noise in agreement, staring back at the fruit stand. She knew Josephine had a tendency for hyperbole, but there had to be some bit of truth to the story. And why did everything seem to have children involved?

“You know, I had a panic attack giving birth to this one because of what happened to Cecily.” She nodded towards her daughter.

“I don’t blame you.”

They were silent for a while; Katrine dropped her head back to gaze at the sky and avoid Josephine’s eyes on her, a colder green than she remembered.

“Why’d you leave, Katrine? It was awful after you left,” Josephine said, an edge to her voice.

Katrine slouched and put her elbows on her knees, stroking her hair. “It was shit even while I was there.” 

“Don’t swear in front of Aster.”

Katrine stuck her tongue out at Aster, and the girl mimicked her.

“Why the Scouts, of all places? I never took you for one who’d run off to fight Titans and die a hero,” Josephine said.

“It’s just about the furthest you can get from Mitras,” Katrine said, tugging hard at her braid.

“God, quit it with that! It’s so unflattering,” Josephine said with a hiss and reached over to smack her hand. Katrine blinked, surprised; no one had chided her for that in years. She leaned over so she was closer to Aster, their cheeks nearly touching.

“Aster, let your Aunt Katrine braid your hair. Your mom was always terrible at it,” she whispered conspiratorially. 

The girl turned around with a gummy smile and Katrine gently combed through the girl’s soft brown hair and began to braid it. While Aster giggled at her mother, Katrine wrinkled her nose at Josephine.

“Did you hear Mr. Kaiser died?” Josephine asked.

Katrine’s hands froze and Aster’s hair slipped out of her fingers.

“Six months ago,” Josephine said.

“I know,” Katrine said, voice strained.

Josephine prattled on about what she knew, which was exactly what Katrine knew because she’d read it in the newspaper. But she couldn’t say anything because her lungs had constricted and it was impossible for any breath to come out. Mr. Kaiser had decided to die right when she was angry and vulnerable, and left her with a humiliating mess and Levi’s contempt. She focused on forcing her fingers through Aster’s hair and she swallowed, remembering how to speak again.

“He has a tendency to ruin things even from the grave,” she muttered, and pulled out the little mirror from her waistband and handed it to Aster.

“What? Oh my God, Katrine, you still have this? I can’t believe it’s lasted this long!” Josephine gently took the mirror from her daughter’s fingers and inspected it, turning it over in her hands.

“Nine years!” Katrine said, thankful for the change in subject. “I’m surprised too.”

“Wow. It doesn’t even feel like that long ago. Victoria showed it to me before she wrapped it up, she was so proud of herself,” Josephine said, tracing its delicate carvings of vines and leaves, eyes distant. She handed it back to Katrine with a little smile on her face and patted Aster on the knee, but her hand looked heavy.

“We should go. My husband’s probably starting to wonder,” Josephine said, and she rose to her feet. Aster hopped off the bench and tugged at her own braid.

“Really, Katrine, don’t get eaten by a Titan. I don’t want to read about your death in the papers like everyone else’s.” Josephine stared directly into her eyes, and Katrine couldn’t keep her gaze. There was a flutter of guilt at the bottom of her stomach.

“I’m not planning on it,” Katrine said to Aster. “Because then I won’t get to take you out for fried bread, huh, Aster?”

Katrine watched their backs as they walked away, and she got up too to buy herself the peach. She bit into it and enjoyed the sweetness flooding her mouth, but when she sat back down she realized she hadn’t thought about Victoria once over the past three days. The next bite tasted like dust.

* * *

Katrine and Levi crept through the dark streets of Stohess, darting into alleyways and slinking behind wagons to avoid the occasional MP. The curfew imposed on Stohess was a blessing for keeping away fewer eyes to recognize them, but a curse for leaving them wide open to those assigned to night watch.

She tried to stay behind him in case the MPs saw them, because she knew she was ineffective in a fight, but also so he couldn’t see her clench her hands with nervous tension. Her fingers contorted into horrible claws so she could keep the rest of her body still and calm. Her knuckles were aching but there was a torrent of rage, curiosity, and fear coursing through her. Something was there, something the Cult wanted hidden, because what Nick and Josephine said and what happened to Cecily couldn’t be isolated coincidences.

Katrine wanted to scream that she knew, and that she’d find whatever the Cult kept hidden, drag that dark secret out from underground into the light. Then if she ever saw the other dancers again maybe they wouldn’t give her those same cold eyes because she’d disappointed them. 

When they reached the pharmacy Levi suddenly turned to Katrine, right as she’d straightened all her fingers to shoot out whatever excess energy she had.

“Do what I tell you, unless you want to get caught,” he said, voice low.

“Fine.” She hated being ordered but knew he was right.

Levi picked through the rubble and scanned the area for MPs. He wrenched open the pharmacy door and peered inside, and after nodding back to her, he entered. Katrine gingerly stepped around the debris, intently focused on avoiding the sharp edges threatening to tear her skin. She followed him inside, breathing in the thick, stale air, and took another hesitant step into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: minor medical procedure

_ Year 850: One day later  _

Katrine stepped inside the pharmacy, took one breath of the stale, dusty air, and promptly sneezed. Even in the dim light, she could see Levi whirl to glare at her.

“Sorry!” she mouthed, hands up in apology. He shook his head like he didn’t believe her and crouched down behind the countertop.

As expected, the pharmacy was a wreck. Shelves laid in broken heaps on shattered glass jars and their spilled contents. Papers advertising elixirs for pain relief and boundless energy littered the ground. And there were tiny white pills everywhere, scattered across the floor like snowflakes. Katrine stood before one and after contemplating it for a moment, crushed it with the tip of her boot.

“Psst!” Levi stood up and motioned to her. She crept towards him, picking over shards of glass, and bent to see what he was pointing at. At first she only saw the splintered floor, but then spotted the chain snaking out of a hole in the wood.

“They certainly made this easy,” Levi whispered.

“No need to brag, this is only the beginning,” she whispered back.

Levi didn’t respond; he crouched down and tugged at the chain. The trapdoor swung open effortlessly, causing Katrine to wonder how often it was used. However, it revealed nothing but darkness. She bit her lip and peered inside, trying to discern something, anything, while Levi dropped a rock inside and listened to it hit the ground. She heard the noise too and had no idea what it meant, but Levi swung his legs into the entrance and dropped right in.

“Are you  _ insane _ ?” she hissed.

“It’s two meters at most,” his voice said from the darkness.

“You want me to break a leg?”

“Didn’t think you’d need someone to catch you.”

Sudden heat flared in her cheeks and for a moment Katrine was thankful that the cavern below was pitch black so Levi wouldn’t see it. She sat at the edge of the trapdoor and dangled her legs into the darkness, and then twisted herself inside so she could hang on to the edge with both hands. But there was nothing solid beneath her and she had no idea how far she was from the ground, and her fingers clenched into the wood at the thought of fracturing an ankle or severing a toe and then what would she do-

And then there was warmth at her waist, the pressure of fingers, and she couldn’t feel the grain of the wood anymore because she was weightless. She didn’t even think to gasp or flinch or even breathe because she could only notice the way she could feel his thumbs digging into her sides, at the edges of her ribs, and that her mind was utterly empty.

“Let go,” Levi said.

She let go.

He set her down quickly and then his hands were gone, and the place where they were was buzzing and raw, like the skin had been torn off. Katrine was alone again, swallowed by cold darkness. She concentrated on her feet, now flat on solid ground, and held her breath to make her heart slow down. 

Levi struck a match and the hiss made her twitch. He lit a candle, and Katrine realized grudgingly she wouldn’t have thought to bring one. The flame threw shadows onto his face and the dim light made his features softer, less harsh, and she wondered if he’d changed at all in those six months. She didn’t know what she wanted him to be, though, and that made her uneasy.

“Find the walls,” he said to the flame. “There’s probably a door leading out.” He turned to face her and his eyes were hard again, emotionless, and an inexplicable feeling of sadness bloomed in her throat. He lit another candle with the flame and she took it.

Katrine turned away from him and held the candle in front of her, but it illuminated nothing. Gritting her teeth and ignoring the fear still torrenting through her, she stretched out her other hand and took a step forward. Nothing. She took another, and then another, and still encountered nothing. Katrine began to worry that they were in a room with no walls at all, just some vast expanse of empty air, and then she and Levi would keep walking away from each other until she could never find him again.

Then her toe hit something solid and her hand slammed into a flat vertical surface, and she wasn’t even angry that her fingers stung because she’d found something tangible, something that proved she wasn’t in some inescapable abyss.

“Found it,” she said, her relief audible.

“What’s it feel like?” Levi’s voice came from somewhere behind her.

“Wood?” Katrine hoped that was a useful answer because she had no idea if it was good or bad.

“Try to find a handle.” 

Katrine ran her hand over the wall but it was smooth and cold. She slid to the right, holding the candle in front of her, and prayed she wouldn’t trip over anything. But then she noticed a glint of light in the darkness, too close to be Levi’s candle. For a moment Katrine thought she’d stared too hard into the flame and her eyes were playing tricks on her, but it didn’t waver as she moved closer. With realization she gasped and darted forward, forgetting about any unseen obstacle in her way. She threw her hand at it and felt hard metal. A handle! She jiggled it a bit to make sure the door wasn’t locked, and it gave no resistance.

“Here you are,” she whispered, and lowered her candle to the handle. Levi’s footsteps stopped and then moved towards her.

_ That was all me, huh? _ she mouthed in his direction, proud of her accomplishment.

The light of his candle grew brighter and Levi emerged from the shadows. He inspected the latch and then put an ear to the door. For a few seconds he was motionless, and then he grabbed the handle and slowly pushed the door open.

It led into more darkness. 

_ Seriously? _ Katrine curled her lip.

Levi took a few tentative steps forward and disappeared. Annoyance overtaking her dread, she followed him and found him again after ten steps forward, illuminated by a dim rectangle of light at the top of the wall. They were in some sort of hallway, she realized.

“There’s a ladder leading up,” Levi said, and began climbing. It led a few meters up to what appeared to be a ledge, where the source of the light was. Katrine grew concerned that they were walking further and further into some labyrinthine trap.

He stopped at the edge of the mezzanine and poked his head over the edge, and then hoisted himself up. Katrine scrambled after him, refusing to be dead weight. Once she reached the top she found that the ledge was actually a continuation of the hallway, and the light was coming from a large window at the end of it. When they walked towards it, Katrine could see the damaged buildings and cracked pavement outside. Since the window and the hallway were undamaged, she knew they’d reached the inside of the cathedral.

Perpendicular to the window was another door, but this one was carved and ornate, with three women aligned in a triangle through clasped hands. Katrine stared at it, feeling a peculiar urge to trace their faces with her fingers, but Levi listened at the door again and pressed down on the handle embossed with leaves.

It opened into a room so cavernous and imposing that Katrine immediately gulped. They were at the back end of the cathedral, where velvet pews were aligned in perfect rows facing a pulpit and a massive stained glass window. There must have been hundreds of pews, enough to fit thousands of people, and it felt strange to see it so lifeless. She didn’t know what to look at first: the circular window where swirling triangles of multicolored glass converged to point at a single blue eye, or the marble pillars that could have been as tall as a Titan.

Instead her eyes darted to Levi, and even he appeared awed.

“Now what?” she whispered.

“If anything, it’s over there.” He pointed at the other end of the cathedral, past the pulpit and beneath the stained glass. It was a domed enclave with three carved statues and giant candles at least a meter high. He walked towards it and Katrine followed, but right as her hand left the door it swung shut behind them, the click of the latch reverberating so loud she thought all of Stohess could hear it.

Levi spun to face her, glowering. “What did you  _ do _ ?” 

“Nothing!” Katrine turned around and where the door should have been there was a huge painting of an old man dressed in full regalia, a heavy golden crown on his head. There was no hint of the passageway behind it.

“Now how are we getting out?” Every word was sharp as a blade.

“I don’t know, that’s your job!” Katrine struggled to keep her voice even, suddenly claustrophobic.

Levi shot her a look like he thought she was an idiot and stalked away. Katrine trailed behind him again, refusing to be defeated, but her frustration was growing.

They followed the lush red carpet down to the enclave, where there was an imposing wood altar. Katrine tried not to look at the giant eye in the stained glass window; she felt like a mouse searching for crumbs. But, the altar held silver goblets and little trays studded with gems, so the risk was worth it. She inched one hand forward, measuring the weight of a chalice with her eyes, praying the glass pupil wouldn’t follow her.

“Don’t even think about it,” Levi said. Katrine tried to look offended.

He crept around the enclave, inspecting the walls, fingers dancing across the wood and marble. Katrine took a few steps back so everything was in her field of vision, attempting to find some pattern, some inconsistency. Everything was so symmetrical, so precisely placed, that Katrine began to understand why people could spend their lives starting at an altar. It was mesmerizing.

Katrine blinked and forced her eyes away, looking at the side of the church. Along the walls were oil paintings of old men who all looked the same, but something caught her eye. There was a white marble plaque with something carved into it. Katrine squinted and made out a flower, one with spiky petals and tiny circles at its center.

_ Edelweiss! A white flower, of course! _

Katrine looked to the opposite wall, where paintings hung in a similar manner, but found no corresponding plaque. A slow smile crept onto her face.

She stepped out of the enclave and tiptoed to the plaque, careful for creaky floorboards. Placing her hand on the cold marble, she ran her fingers over the carving and pressed down gently. The plaque receded and part of the wall swung away into a short hallway that led to what appeared to be an office.

Katrine put her hands on her hips and made a small sound of approval. Levi didn’t need to know just yet, she decided, and spied a glittering silver ashtray on a nearby table. She picked it up and admired the exquisite carvings and bright emeralds. It would fetch a high price with the right buyer and then she could get-

“Put that down.” Katrine grimaced when she heard Levi’s voice at her back. “How’d you find this?” He pressed down on the plaque, testing the mechanism.

“An edelweiss is a white flower,” she said, dropping the ashtray. “It’s like I don’t even need you!”

“No need to brag,” he said, and disappeared into the passageway.

Katrine screwed her face into the ugliest expression she could manage, because he probably thought that was  _ so clever _ , and she hated having her words thrown back at her. Only she could do that. Katrine snatched the ashtray off the table and shoved it into her waistband, and then followed Levi, making sure to leave the door open.

When she stepped into the office, Katrine was awed by the sheer amount of books. They were aligned in neat rows on shelves, most of them thick, but none had titles on their spines. There was a window that looked out into an alleyway, and the moonlight illuminated a clean but sturdy desk. Nothing seemed particularly fishy.

“This desk has a secret compartment,” Levi said, and crouched to inspect it.

Katrine turned away from the books and narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?”

“Hidden but easily accessible if needed. People aren’t that creative.” She heard him tapping at the drawers, and then the hollow noise of a knock.

“Here,” Levi said, moving a slat of wood out from under the desk. Katrine moved to the desk and bent down next to him, and saw that there was a folded sheet of paper shoved into the back crevice of the desk. Levi took the paper and unfolded it; Katrine forgot herself for a moment and leaned in to read it too, but then the scent of pine hit her and she froze, hoping her sudden distress wasn’t obvious.

“What  _ is  _ this?” he asked, snapping her out of her reverie. Katrine scanned the writing; it was made of unfamiliar symbols, blocky and angular, but in seemingly normal straight lines.

“It has to be a code,” Katrine said, taking the paper from Levi. She found that it was five sheets, all densely filled with lines of the code, and held them up to the window to get a better look.

“If this is what Erwin wanted, it’s pretty useless,” Levi said. There was an edge to his voice.

“Not if I can crack it,” she said in a light tone, nearly taunting. Ego swelled in her chest. The Cult wanted to play a game with her, and Katrine could never resist a game. She hated losing even more than she loved winning.

“You’ll be lost without some kind of clue,” he said.

Levi doubted her, she realized. More determination flared. “Then go look for one. I need to memorize this, that’s the only reason I’m here.”

Without argument, he walked away and inspected the bookshelves. Katrine turned to the pages and scanned the text; it was filled with rows of sticklike figures, stiff and regular, like little soldiers at attention. They were angular, simplistic, and only made up of lines and triangles, but she knew the real challenge was figuring out what letters they disguised. She stared at the page and imprinted the figures into her memory, symbol by symbol, line by line. Her eyes refused to blink and began to sting. This would be harder than the books she read and unconsciously memorized because these symbols were unfamiliar, but once she was halfway down the second page their differences became clear and her eyes swept across the lines.

The pages fell away and Katrine reached the last one, unaware of time passing and the pressure on her toes and even where Levi was because the only thing occupying her mind was the letters. She was fully involved now and knew she would break the code and reveal its secret, whatever it was.

“Katrine!”

She jumped at the sound, angered at the interruption. “What?”

“Someone’s coming, we need to go.” He looked towards the hallway. Katrine didn’t think Levi felt fear, but something that looked like it flashed across his face.

“But I have one more page-” She cut herself off when she heard two faint voices and a faraway thud.

“There’s no time,” Levi said while striding to the window. He peered outside and after determining there was no sudden danger, he unlatched it and pushed it open.

“I need to-”

Levi’s arm shot out faster than she could blink and his fingers dug into her forearm. Katrine inhaled sharply, shocked at the sudden touch, and the pages fluttered from her hand to the floor. Just as quickly he snatched up the pages and shoved them into the back of the desk, fitting the false back into place.

“Go,” he said, pointing to the window.

Remembering herself again, she sprang to her feet, bounding to the window. She looked out, afraid that someone was there watching that she couldn’t see in the shadows, and her fingers gripped the windowsill until she heard heavy footsteps again, louder this time.

“Go!”

Katrine swallowed hard and brought one foot to the windowsill, and then leapt out. She hit the ground and sprang out of the way; Levi landed behind her a second later. He rose to his feet and shut the window behind him. Katrine remained crouched, steadying her shaky breath, thankful they hadn’t been caught but angry at herself for not finishing and not putting up more of a fight.

Levi dropped back to his knees and stared up at the window with a concentrated look on his face. When he seemed satisfied that the voices inside were not panicked ones that had realized the break-in, he turned back to her.

“We need to leave,” he whispered.

“I had one more page, I need to read it,” she whispered back.

“Too risky.” He crept out of the vantage point of the window and rose to his feet, then looked around and strode towards a dark alleyway.

“Hey! That’s the only reason we’re here!” Katrine jumped up and ran after him.

“Doesn’t matter if we get caught,” he said, not breaking his pace. 

She caught up to him and the two stepped into the alleyway. “We can just wait for them to leave,” she said, stepping over something mushy.

“Too risky,” he repeated.

It was increasingly difficult to keep her voice from rising. “How the hell am I supposed to understand this if I don’t have the entire thing?” 

“Erwin doesn’t need the whole thing, he just needs a lead,” Levi said, annoyance creeping into his tone.

“Sure, because Erwin is such a genius that he’ll know all the Cult’s secrets from four pages,” Katrine said, rolling her eyes. They turned onto the street. “Next you’ll say he can crack the code with no key-”

Her words died in her throat as they ran straight into two MPs.

“Pastor David said he heard something weird. Maybe it’s these two rats,” one said. He was tall, too tall, with hands that looked like they could crush her skull.

“Don’t you little rats know it’s past curfew?” the other replied, and turned to share a malicious grin with his partner. He turned his gaze back to them, and his eyes narrowed at the sight of Levi.

“This guy looks familiar. Like Captain Levi from the Scouts,” he said.

Katrine’s eyes darted to Levi to gauge his reaction, and silently thanked whatever higher power prevented her from meeting these two MPs as targets for pickpocketing.

“Sure short enough to be,” the other said, cocking his head.

“You need to run,” Levi said under his breath without looking at her. He was staring straight back at the MPs, his expression neutral. She could tell he was sizing them up.

Katrine took a step back.

“Hey! Don’t move!” The taller MP thrust out his hand, close enough for his fingers to brush her throat, and Levi seized the man’s wrist. Without waiting to see what happened next, Katrine turned and sprinted away, back into the darkness.

***

Panting, Katrine burst into the tiny Scout outpost hidden away on a side street far removed from the main squares of Stohess. She’d learned on this trip that Erwin had a similar setup in each district, for some suspicious reason, and she’d made a mental note to learn why when she returned. For now she tore through boxes, desk drawers, and cabinets in search of a pen and paper.

_ Get it together _ , she thought, snatching a pen and clamping down on it with her teeth. She continued her manic search, throwing everything to the floor.  _ He should know not to touch me but God, can’t I act like a normal person for once? And why is there no paper? _

Katrine slammed the drawer shut and bit down harder on the pen, groaning. He wasn’t supposed to make her nervous, much less know that he did, and both happened. She stalked to the tiny kitchen and ripped through the cupboards there too, just in case someone decided this was the best place for paper. There was nothing.

_ I was so close, too, I had one more page and I could have finished it but Humanity’s Shortest had to freak out over a priest. Ridiculous! _

Katrine moved back to the main room and inspected the mess she’d made. She sighed, pen still clenched in her teeth. The tiny storm she’d caused did little to relieve her stress. She wondered if that was why the Titan had destroyed Stohess; maybe it needed to create some semblance of control.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  _ I’m fine, everything is fine, what I really need to do is write down this code. _ She recalled the letters in her mind, the pattern of the angular markings, and her heartbeat slowed. _ Then once it’s written down I’ll figure out where I can get the key. I’ll find that myself, I don’t need him- _

The front door opened and Levi slipped inside. There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead and he was holding a bloodstained cloth to his neck. He quietly shut the door and peered out the window for anyone following him. 

Katrine ripped the pen out of her mouth, suddenly aware of it again. His blood on the white cloth was a stark crimson. “What happened?” she asked.

“They were nothing, but I can’t say for certain no one saw,” he said, still looking out the window. He turned to her. “We need to leave...” His voice faltered at the sight of the mess. “What the fuck is this?”

She held out her hands. “What?” she asked innocently.

“This was not here before.” There was an angry undercurrent to his voice that made Katrine struggle to keep her expression neutral. He still had the power to make her squirm, but he wasn’t unflappable either.

She shrugged. “I need paper.”

“Could’ve found it without tearing the place apart.”

“What do you want me to do, write it on my arms?” Katrine considered throwing the pen at him, but thought better of it.

“Clean it up, we need to leave,” he said, and walked towards the bathroom.

Curiosity gnawed at her, and instead of arguing further, she followed him. “Are you okay?”

Levi grasped the edge of the sink, knuckles white, and inspected the cut on his neck in the mirror. It was at least five centimeters long, and though she couldn’t tell how deep it was, it didn’t look like it was going to stop bleeding soon. He looked down at the bloody rag in his hand and grimaced.

Katrine swallowed, unsure. A cut of that length would require stitches. “You, uh, need help?”

“No.” He bent down to rummage in the cabinet under the sink.

That was expected, but she didn’t know why she’d bothered to ask.  _ _ She wasn’t supposed to be nice to him.

Katrine trudged back to the main room to pick up the things she’d scattered, and dumped them into an empty chest she found near the door. Someone else could clean it up later, she had a code to crack.

She tapped the pen against her nose and stared at the wall. The key had to be somewhere in the cathedral, and if they’d found the message, then the key couldn’t be that difficult to find. She imagined a gaggle of priests stooped over their holy texts, painstakingly drawing out symbols to hide secrets, probably the sins of parishoners they could later use to their advantage. But even if they weren’t hiding something nefarious, something that had nothing to do with children, Katrine wanted to know anyway. She hated secrets kept from her.

“Katrine.”

She flinched, jolted from her thoughts, and turned to Levi armed with a tart reply but faltered when she saw even more blood. He didn’t say anything else, but there was a resigned look on his face that asked the question for him. Katrine pursed her lips, partly to look annoyed but also in a vain attempt to tamper the energy buzzing through her. 

Why should she help him? There was no reason for it; all the better if he bled out right there. Really, served him right to die bleeding from a scrape on the neck than showered in the guts of twenty Titans after saving a troop of Scouts. But as much as she wanted to think that way she couldn’t, and there was something almost pathetic in his expression that looked all wrong. Where she should have felt indifference, even triumph, there was instead a nearly magnetic force drawing her towards him, puppet strings tied to her fingers dragging them up to his neck, his skin, his pulse.

Though, helping him would give her more leverage in convincing him to go look for a key. That was it; Levi hated owing anyone. That was why she wanted to help, Katrine convinced herself.

“Would’ve been easier if you’d asked before,” she said, walking towards the bathroom. 

Levi’s steps echoed behind her. “It’s at a weird angle,” he muttered.

Katrine entered the bathroom and noticed that it was surprisingly clean, given the blood that was continuing to seep out of the cut. There was a needle and thread, bandages, and clean towels on the countertop. She washed her hands and stared at her reflection in the mirror, purposely hardening her expression and willing away the tiny quiver that was threatening her lower lip. 

Her eyes drifted to Levi’s reflection. He was leaning against the doorframe staring out into the hallway with an agitated expression on his face. She wondered if it was because he was in pain, or because he had to ask her for help.

“Sorry there’s no gloves,” she said, watching his head turn back to her. “But I’m sure you’re sterile enough to handle it.”

He rolled his eyes, and Katrine twisted the towel against her hands, concentrating on the rough texture. She cut off a length of thread and motioned to him with her head, moving away to make room for him at the sink. Levi stepped forward and folded his arms, tilting his jaw towards her almost aggressively. Threading the needle, she demanded her fingers not to shake, like she did every time before gliding onstage to thousands of eyes upon her. But this was just one person, and his eyes were firmly set on the cold porcelain sink.

She moved closer to him and felt every hair on her body prickle in fear, in anticipation, and she thought she could feel her blood rushing out of her limbs and into her chest, leaving them cold and empty. Her heart was pounding like it could crack through her ribs, and her breathing sounded so deafening it was a miracle that Levi couldn’t hear it. The last time she’d been so close was six months ago, before Utopia, and Katrine promised herself she’d never get so close to anyone ever again unless it was to threaten them.

But here she was, only centimeters away, and if she moved her knee even slightly she risked knocking into his and she was terrified of what would happen then, even more so than if they’d been caught in the cathedral.

Katrine took one steadying breath laced with the scent of his sweat and rested the tips of her fingers on his neck. His skin was hot, searing, enough to make her lips part, and she thought if she removed her fingertips she would find them raw and burned. He gave no reaction.

She pressed her lips together and squeezed the wound closed, ignoring the sensation of blood running down her fingers, and inserted the needle. 

Something audible caught in Levi’s throat and she froze, her eyes unconsciously darting up to his face, and she saw that he was biting down on the inside of his lower lip, something that looked unnatural and vulnerable. It seemed cruel to push the needle in further and draw the thread through his skin, but the marks from his previous failures pushed her onwards. A bead of sweat inched down her spine, and Katrine tried not to shudder.

It couldn’t possibly have been more than a minute since she’d last spoken, but it felt like they’d been standing in silence for ages. Compared to the tiny bathroom and the amount of space between them the silence was cavernous. 

“You didn’t kill them, did you?” she asked. Katrine didn’t care if he did, she couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

“Knocked them out,” he said. His voice was low and she felt the reverberations in his neck. She noticed that the skin over his jaw looked smooth, even soft, despite the faint line of a scar trailing his chin. It was unlike other men who had scratchy and unruly beards, or scaly and rough skin dry from shaving.

_ Why did I notice that? _

“How kind of you,” she said, adding another stitch.

“Two dead MPs and this city’ll rip itself apart. We’ll be out of here by morning, though.”

She pulled the thread taut, hoping it hurt, but he didn’t react. “I need that last page. And to see if there’s any key.”

“Like I said, Erwin only needs a lead,” he said.

“Without a key it’s not a lead, it’s just some fancy symbols.” 

“And risk getting caught again?”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t take her eyes off the needle. “I thought you were supposed to be good at that, not getting caught. Though I guess everyone embellished the stories.”

Levi clenched his jaw, slight enough that if she were a meter away she wouldn’t have noticed, but it was obvious from her angle. “Don’t try that with me, Katrine,” he said, a warning in his tone, but she knew he couldn’t do much with a needle stuck in his neck.

“Fine, then, you can leave. I’ll just do it myself,” she said, shrugging.

He snorted. “Sure, you’d get caught in fifteen minutes.”

“Watching you, it looked simple enough. And what can a bunch of priests do?”

“MPs are everywhere. You’d get mauled.”

The fact that Levi still underestimated her stung a bit, but most people did, and she’d learned a long time ago to use it to her advantage.

“Well, then, if you read about my horrendous death in the newspaper, please tell Erwin not to shed a tear for me. It wouldn’t suit him,” Katrine said.

“Stop being dramatic,” he said. “You haven’t gotten any less annoying.”

“And you’re still an asshole.” She picked up the scissors and cut the thread to tie it closed. She’d given him twelve stitches when he only needed ten. “You can clean this up yourself, I have to plan.”

“You can’t just barge into the same place. We don’t know for certain the priests didn’t see us,” Levi said, wiping the blood away from the wound. “Or that those MPs will remember.”

“Guess I’ll have to, I need that key.” Katrine bent to wash her hands. The cold water was shocking, chasing away the warmth she’d felt from his skin.

“If the Cult is smart they’d keep the key somewhere else,” he said. “In a different office or maybe outside the cathedral entirely.”

“I thought you weren’t interested?” She kept her voice light. “Erwin give you a more important job?”

Levi pressed a bandage onto the cut. The pained expression from before was gone and replaced with his usual stoicism. “What we want to do is observe the cathedral, see where the priests are and make a judgment based on that,” he said. “Inns work well for that purpose, I’ve done it before.”

“Oh, it’s ‘we’ now?”

He sighed. “I’m not letting you get caught. That’d be too much trouble.” He squeezed his eyes shut, a deep line forming between his eyebrows. “God, I forgot how stubborn you are.”

She gave him a cloying smile. “I prefer ‘ambitious.’”

***

Despite the deep scratches on its facade and a few shattered windows, the Bramwell Inn was open for business. The tall, skinny building stood in the shadow of the cathedral and was just seedy enough that it wouldn’t get much attention from MPs.

The innkeeper, a stooped old man with sparse white hair, eyed the Scout emblem on Katrine’s jacket as they negotiated the price. Levi wandered off to inspect the stately grandfather clock that looked out of place in the threadbare lobby.

“I’d love a room with a balcony, the cathedral is so beautiful,” Katrine said, unhappy to part with the money that could have bought her a bracelet. “Also, do you have any paper I could use?”

The man handed her a few sheets, but his eyes kept darting away. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry, but I have to ask...is that  _ the  _ Captain Levi?”

Katrine’s eyes narrowed, not enough for the innkeeper to notice, but this happened so many times she was certain it was some kind of cosmic punishment. Everyone went starry-eyed over him,  _ everyone _ , over this little man who couldn’t fake a convincing smile even if his life depended on it.

An idea flickered in her head and Katrine suppressed the mischievous smile threatening to spread across her face. She rested her forearms on the counter and gave a sympathetic grimace to the man. “I’m so sorry, he’s not. But did you know Captain Levi has a brother?”

The innkeeper raised his eyebrows. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” Katrine said, tilting her head towards Levi. He was still inspecting the clock. She hoped it was caked in dust. “Not as talented, though, so no one talks about him.”

“Oh,” the innkeeper said, crestfallen. “I was so excited to tell my wife.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Lance is used to it, though. His brother’s taller,” she said, leaning in to whisper, “and better looking!”

“Really,” the innkeeper said, eyes shining. “This brother, is he older or younger?”

“Older. Isn’t it sad when your little siblings overshadow you?”

The innkeeper tutted in agreement, and turned to Levi. “Your brother is a hero, please thank him on behalf of Bramwell Inn!”

Levi looked up from the clock, confused, but gave Katrine a thunderous glare when he realized her trick. She let herself smile because she’d forgotten how hilarious that expression was.

“Thank you for the paper! Come on, Lance,” she said, bounding up the stairs.

The room was cramped and smelled stale, but the balcony provided an unobstructed view of the cathedral. There was a tiny table and one chair on the balcony she noted to claim before Levi did. Stepping outside into the morning air, Katrine could see the cathedral’s entrance, the square surrounding it, and the tall spire at the front. Satisfied, she turned back to see Levi grab the key and open the door.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Getting food,” he said.

Katrine was suddenly conscious of her empty stomach and remembered she hadn't eaten anything since the peach the day before. “Oh, get me a-”

The door slammed shut behind him.

She scowled, but remembered her purpose and sprawled on the floor with the blank paper. Propping one leg on the small side table to stretch it, she pulled the pen out of her waistband and brought the foreign characters back to the front of her mind. They rearranged themselves into straight lines, just as clear as they were on the letter. Katrine began writing, pen flying down the page, and finished the first just as her wrist began to hurt. Ignoring the pain, she kept going, and spun to stretch her other leg after she turned the second page. Noises from outside drifted into the room, but they seemed distant and muffled. Instead, all she could hear was the scratching of her pen. Only the letters occupied her otherwise blissfully empty mind.

At the middle of the fourth page Levi entered her thoughts and disrupted the flow of characters. He was biting his lip, the same way he did last night, and Katrine inhaled sharply at the memory.  _ Go away _ , her mind screamed,  _ I’m not doing this anymore _ , but he didn’t vanish. 

She saw that she’d torn through the paper with her pen. Pressing down harder on her leg, she felt pain scream up her hamstring and she continued, forcing the letters past Levi and onto the paper. They appeared as commanded, albeit slower than before. Once she made it to the end of the final page, where she’d been forced to stop, Katrine sighed and tapped the pen against her forehead.  _ Maybe they put the most important information first. But what if they didn’t?  _ There was at least a half page left from what she recalled. She peered deeper into her memory, squinting, trying to make out what those last words could be, but they were blurry and faint.  _ How am I supposed to know the full truth without the whole thing? _

Katrine suddenly became aware of a dark shadow in her periphery, and turned to see boots entirely too close to her face. Startled, she glared up at Levi. He towered over her, which seemed both laughably wrong and fitting for the amount of space he claimed in her mind.

“What?” she snapped.

“That can’t possibly be comfortable,” he said.

“You’d be surprised. Where’s my food?”

Levi nodded towards the kitchenette. On the counter were two apples and a silver tin.

Katrine scoffed. “That’s it? What do you think I am, a horse?”

“If you keep snorting like that, then you probably are,” he said, bending to pick up the pages she’d written.

Katrine rose to her feet and walked over to the kitchenette, giving him a wide berth. Biting into the apple, she inspected the tin. It was tea, with a label of red roses intertwining in a circle.

“Ha! ‘The Red Rose of Stohess!’ This looks expensive. Name’s a little ridiculous, though,” she said, shaking the tin.

“Could say the same about ‘Everlasting Romance,’” he said, continuing to read.

Katrine turned to look at him. “What, that it’s expensive?”

“No, that it’s ridiculous.” 

She made an ugly face at him, but his eyes didn’t leave the paper. Annoyed at his lack of response, she turned over the tin, curious about the price. She nearly choked on the apple when she found it.

“You spent two months’ salary on this shit?”  _ _ It was barely four ounces _ . _

Levi shrugged. “It’s rare and I had the money.”

“It can’t possibly be worth this much.”

“Technically a half month’s and the funds Erwin gave me for this mission.” 

Katrine’s jaw dropped. “Erwin gave you funds? He never told me! And you’re saying you made  _ me  _ pay for this room, when you had money this whole time?” She wracked her brain for something horribly offensive to say to Erwin next time.

“You never asked. And besides, it was your idea. Might as well make this worth my while,” Levi said nonchalantly. 

Katrine ground her teeth, fuming. “I swear I am going to throw this off the balcony,” she said.

Levi finally looked at her, though his expression was no different than normal. Part of her wanted a stronger reaction, while the other questioned why she was even bothering with the argument.

“I’d advise against it,” he said, tone even. It was clear he knew she wouldn’t. The urge to destroy something still coursed through her veins, though.

Katrine stalked to the balcony and chomped down on the apple. Staring down at the street below, she spotted two men wearing tan jackets; the blurs of green on the back indicated they were MPs. She wrinkled her nose at them, but realized that one was stocky and blonde, just like the man from Edelweiss Cathedral the day earlier. Swallowing her last bite, Katrine hurled the apple core at him. Though she was a few meters off, both men still jumped and shouted in alarm. She turned swiftly and walked back inside, feeling much better.

“What was that noise?” Levi asked, eyes wary.

“Nothing.” Katrine walked back to the kitchenette and started on the other apple, refusing to meet his gaze.

_ What the hell am I going to do for the rest of the day? Watch a church for twelve hours?  _ She leaned on the countertop and tapped her heel on the floor.  _ At least inns always have a deck of cards. I’m not going to sit here all day and think about you. _

“Are you sure this is right?” Levi said, holding up the papers.

“Of course it is, you wanna go back and check my work?” As insecure as she was about her feelings, Katrine was completely confident in her memory.

He touched the bandage on his neck. “I thought Erwin was kidding when he said you could do this,” he said. His voice was so quiet thought she’d misheard him.

“What?”

Levi looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised. His expression was like he’d stumbled upon a tiny green bud sprouting through the snow; it was different than anything she’d seen since returning from Utopia, something that wasn’t annoyance or exhaustion or apathy. She felt as if she was balanced on her toes, completely still, waiting for the music to start, but instead it was his voice.

“...This,” he said, gesturing to the papers.

Heat bloomed at the bottom of her stomach and Katrine gripped the apple harder, hoping the warmth hadn’t spread to her face, though there was a smile threatening to break across her face and ruin her carefully crafted mask of indifference.

“Oh. Thanks,” she said, cursing herself for not thinking of something wittier.

The ensuing silence was painful, but Levi made no indication he felt the same. Folding the papers, he tucked them into his jacket and walked outside. Katrine sighed and looked up, praying to the stain on the ceiling for help. It gave no guidance. 

Deciding to focus on what she’d came to do, Katrine rummaged through the drawers and found a pack of cards amongst the pile of matchboxes. Joining Levi on the balcony, she planted herself in the cold metal chair. She shuffled the cards and slapped them down, beginning a game of solitaire.

Levi stood against the railing and stared at the cathedral, while Katrine moved the cards around and occasionally looked up to see if anything suspicious jumped out. But what did that look like? Children falling out the windows?

The silence was better than before since the faint voices below them filled the air, but it still felt unbearable.

“Heard you’re babysitting that Titan,” she said, overturning a card.

Levi shook his head. “A lot worse than babysitting,” he said.

“Being a father to a teenager must be rough.”

He threw her a withering look.

Katrine tapped a card against her lips, smiling. “Do you give him a curfew?”

“Don’t take him lightly. He’s reckless. Even worse than you,” he said.

“That’s a terrible compliment.”

“Don’t go fishing for them. How was Utopia?”

The hand about to place the next card froze momentarily, but she forced it to move. “Lovely, I think I’ll ask for a permanent assignment.” When she put it down the movement seemed to ring off the table so loudly the priests inside the cathedral must have heard it. Why would he bother asking, when he was the reason she was banished there?

“Good luck with that. Erwin’s got some master plan that probably won’t allow for it,” Levi said.

His words sounded distant, drowned out by the roar of blood rushing in her ears. It was a horrible decision, she realized, to heed Erwin’s orders and leave Utopia. In fact, she should have ran north when she had the chance. 

“You’ve got a four you can play,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“Four of hearts,” he said, pointing at the card.

Katrine looked down and realized he was right. She felt like banging her head on the table. “Thanks,” she said flatly and moved the card.

They were quiet again. A group of priests clad in black robes stood outside the cathedral doors; they looked like insects compared to the towering building. When one moved away Katrine saw an even smaller shape, one that must have been a child. She wished she were closer to see the child’s expression or overhear what the priests were saying. Peering at them, she stood and leaned over the balcony.

“What are you looking at?” Levi asked.

“Those priests have a kid with them,” she said.

“Why does that matter?”

“It’s…” She tugged at her hair, unsure of how to explain her hunch. “A friend of mine saw something.”

“Just ‘something’ won’t cut it. And I don’t trust any friend of yours.”

Katrine smiled sweetly. “At least I have friends.”

Ignoring the barb, Levi pointed to the spire of the cathedral. “There’s something up there. I saw one priest through the window. He went up there a while ago and hasn’t come back down.” 

She spotted the window and was surprised that he could even see through it. “Guess it’s your job to find out how we get up there,” she said.

“Figure it out yourself, this was your idea,” he said.

Katrine pretended she was disappointed in him. “You know, Levi, I didn’t want to bring this up, but you do owe me.”

“Stitches aren’t enough for this.”

“I’m talking about that time I saved your life, remember that?”

“No.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. 

She gasped, offended. “Your memory’s terrible. You really are an old man.”

He threw up his hands. “Fine. ODM works, as long as you don’t try anything flashy.”

Katrine snorted. “Have you met yourself?” She sat back down flipped over the next card. A cold wind blew and she shivered. Levi turned around and walked back inside.

The wind seemed weak compared to the cyclone of emotions ripping through her. She never asked for them, and she wanted to go back to the easy and boring life she had back in Utopia. There she’d gotten pretty good at keeping busy so he didn’t creep into her head. But then she wouldn’t have seen that vulnerable look on his face, one she didn’t think was physically possible, which was now imprinted in her mind. Was it worth the uncertainty that was just as scary as facing a Titan with no gear? 

Katrine was deciding between two kings to move into her open space when a cup of steaming tea was placed in front of her. She blinked, surprised; she never considered Levi to be particularly thoughtful.

“Thank you,” she said. She wrapped her hands around the mug and immediately felt warmer. “But I’m shocked you’re wasting such expensive tea on someone who can’t appreciate it.”

“Everyone should taste good tea at least once,” he said.

She took a sip and realized he was right. It was earthy and deep with a faint herbal scent.

“Don’t you think it’d taste better with milk?” she asked, already knowing the response.

“Sure, if you’re trying to drink hot watery shit,” he said. 

“Vulgarity is no excuse for wit.”

Levi leaned into the railing, favoring his right leg. A little part of her wanted him to know that she’d noticed, and knew that it was a new aggravation to an old wound, one she’d seen happen. It was a small want, but a loud one.

“How’s your ankle?” she finally asked.

“Not great, not terrible,” he said.

Another silence, but Katrine was beginning to get used to him again. It was peaceful, in a way.

“So, what did this friend of yours say?” he asked.

Katrine curled her hands around the mug, absorbing the warmth, and told Josephine’s story.


	6. Chapter 6

_ Year 846: Six months after the fall of Shiganshina _

“Cadet Casimir, if you keep pretending to forget your cleaning assignments, I swear I will make you run a full lap around Wall Rose,” Section Leader Miche said. He pinched his nose like he smelled something horrible.

Katrine smiled. “But I really do have a terrible memory.”

He dropped his hand to his desk with a heavy thud, covering up his red marks on the map spread in front of him. It sent a nervous chill down her spine. “For now that’s five. Klaus says you still forget to salute him, so that’s another three. And I’m giving you two for that tone of yours.”

Katrine didn’t respond. She knew from being in Miche’s office often enough to tell when he was in a particularly surly mood. Though all he did was whine about her infractions and give her laps to run, she still felt wary in his presence. His head nearly reached the ceiling and his arms were thicker than her neck.

Miche shook his head. “I gave you thirty last week. Aren’t you tired?”

“You know, I think my endurance is getting better.” She stared at the Klimt River on the map and tried to figure out why it looked wrong to her.

He leaned back in his chair and groaned. “Just seeing your face makes me tired.”

“Maybe you should request some time off,” she said, and laid back in her own chair. “You sound like you have a cold.” Miche's lips pinched into a thin, terse line.

Katrine never considered herself particularly unteachable, but she refused to follow rules that she thought were stupid, and the Survey Corps had a lot of stupid rules. Why bother saluting people and using “Commander” and “Sergeant” every time? Didn’t those people remember their ranks without reminding each other all the time?

Laps weren’t a terrible punishment. She acted like she hated them and made appropriately ugly faces when she was assigned them, but liked that running was similar to dancing in that it made her think of nothing else except the pain in her feet.

“I just don’t get it,” he said.

She straightened. “What?”

“This,” he said, motioning with his hand towards her face. “Your whole...thing.”

“Thing?” Katrine wrinkled her nose. Miche was no wordsmith, she’d learned. Making him angry had grown too easy.

“Why leave the wealthiest city in the world to join the Scouts if you can barely take a command?”

She shrugged.

“And...lipstick? Really? Don’t you know this isn’t the ballet?” He smirked like he thought his remark was the most clever thing he’d ever heard.

Katrine leaned forward. “Why bother speaking when it’s so much easier to say something with your face?”

The smirk dropped. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means what I said. Though maybe you wouldn’t get it, you’re a man.”

Miche raised his eyebrows. “That’s another ten. Sexism is not tolerated in the Survey Corps.” 

Katrine pursed her lips. She’d overstepped.

“You...you know what, forget it. I’ve got village evacuations to plan,” Miche said, looking down at the map. “Go run your laps.”

“Your map’s wrong,” she said. If Miche thought he was clever, it was time to show him he wasn’t.

His eyes darted back to her. “What did you say?”

“The Klimt River floods in spring, so the trail you have marked there’s inaccessible.” The map was beautiful, with striking mountains and delicate calligraphy, but when she sat down it was immediately clear that the scale was off. Then she noticed that the northern bend in the Klimt River was too sharp, based on what she’d seen in the villages outside Wall Rose they’d evacuated. She focused that instead of thinking of something snarky to say to Miche.

His brow furrowed, exactly what she wanted. “Captain Silas drew this map. I trust a veteran more than some bratty cadet.”

“Suit yourself, though Silas could’ve actually listened to the farmers in Baumgarten than doodle whatever suits his drunken fancies. The floods were bad this year. Too much snow.”

Miche shifted his head slightly and then looked down at the map as if he were hoping it would rearrange itself before him. Annoyed with his silence, Katrine scraped her chair back and stood.

“If you’re wrong on this, I will make you run until you pass out,” he said. 

Katrine wanted to say that it was a good thing she was right, but thought better of it. He seemed like he was prepared to add more laps. She walked outside and groaned at the sunlight beating down on her; it promised a sunburn. Looking up, she saw Miche standing at his office window high above her, expression cross. She grimaced and began her laps.

When she finished the sun was close to the horizon and her clothes were drenched. Panting, Katrine dragged herself to the compound, dreaming of a long soak and reading the newspaper. She found Sara sweeping the front porch like she needed to make the wood as clean as the day it was cut.

“Katrine! He’s on a rampage!” Sara said, eyes wide. She moved with a frantic intensity that worried Katrine.

“Who?”

“Captain Levi! He said the place was filthy even though we cleaned last week-hey! You’re getting dirt on the porch!”

Katrine took a few steps back when Sara jabbed her with the broom. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what he’s smoking that makes him hallucinate dust-”

“Hey! Get that dirt off the porch.” It was Levi, carrying two buckets and three brooms. His face was hidden by a kerchief and Katrine could only see his angry gray eyes.

Sara straightened immediately. “Yes, sir!” she said, saluting him. Katrine sighed; Sara’s enthusiasm seemed like a slap to the twenty laps she’d just run.

Levi stalked off and didn’t seem to notice that Katrine hadn’t saluted. She heard him bark at a few other Scouts who apparently were also not up to his standards.

Months ago, when she’d seen Levi’s face clearly for the first time and realized she knew him, she’d felt a surge of panic for a reason she didn’t understand. His expression hadn’t shifted, but what if he knew? What would he say? But she was also curious as to how someone who’d broken into the Mitras Company searching for something valuable had ended up here, acting like he was some great champion for humanity. That was a strange turn of events.

But if he recognized her too he made no sign of it, and that was nearly five years ago, and she hadn’t gotten a particularly detailed look at his face in the dark. The only face she really remembered was the girl with red hair whose stomach grumbled loud enough for Katrine to hear. Isabel, who had bright green eyes and sure smile despite knowing she would return to the Underground, which made Katrine feel sorry for her. She hoped Isabel had gotten a lot of money for the Swan Queen crown she’d let her take.

Katrine shook her head, clearing away the memory. “Whatever, I’m going to take a nap.” A bath would have to wait, since she’d rather stay out of sight. She peeled off her boots and walked inside.

“What if he finds you-”

She waved her hand. “He won’t!”

Katrine made her way to the women’s barracks without any further trouble and squeezed herself under one of the beds. It was a tight fit, but the space was used for storage so it was easy to conceal herself. Also, the barracks appeared clean, so she figured few people would come in. After curling into a tight ball and closing her eyes, Katrine felt her stomach rumble and she cursed herself for forgetting something to eat.

She heard light footsteps and saw a bucket placed on the floor. When the person bent down and she saw that it was Sara, she poked her head out. “Sara!” she hissed.

Sara squeaked and jumped to her feet, nearly knocking over her bucket.

“Can you get me some bread or something? I’m starving!”

She looked around furtively. “Uh, I’ll try, but Captain Levi looks like he’s about to punch something.”

“He always looks like that.”

Sara’s face betrayed worry, but she slipped out the door. Katrine withdrew back under the bed and waited for her footsteps. She could smell her own sweat and wrinkled her nose, but it would be better to wait until the cleaning spree concluded.

The footsteps returned and Katrine poked her head out again. “Sara, you’re an angel-”

“What the hell are you doing under there?” The voice was sharp and deep and set her teeth on edge. It was Levi, glaring down at her, face still covered with a kerchief and gripping a broom with such ferocity she could have mistaken it for a gun. Sara cowered behind him with an apologetic look. Katrine frowned; somehow his footsteps were light enough to fool her.

“Uh, cleaning. You wouldn’t believe how dusty it is under here,” she said.

“The cadets swept here an hour ago and it was one of the only tasks done right.”

“Well, always good to check, right?”

His eyes narrowed into slits. “Get out. You look like a rat.”

Katrine wondered if it would be better to refuse, but if there was anyone who would crawl under there and drag her out by force, it would be him. She squirmed out, feeling his searing gaze on her, and her muscles tensed.

“God, you smell awful,” he said. 

“I apologize, Captain Lance,” she said, brushing herself off. He still had a kerchief covering his face, which was completely ridiculous.

“You’ll look as bad as you smell once you’re finished with the stables.” He thrust his broom at Sara and she took it, grasping it so hard her knuckles went white. Levi folded his arms and lifted his chin a bit, expecting her to wilt.

Feigning understanding, Katrine nodded. “So just like you.”

He yanked down the kerchief, revealing the angry scowl on his face, which combined with his dark eyes reminded Katrine of a dog ready to snap. Something pricked in the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down and planted her feet. She was not going to fear him, she decided, because he was shorter than her. Men that were taller were natural to fear because when they got too close she couldn’t see all of them at once; if you looked at their faces, then you couldn’t see what their hands were doing. But Levi was a few centimeters shorter, and when she looked down at him she saw both his glare and curled fists and could prepare herself. She’d heard he was incredibly strong, but it was absurd to be afraid of such a short man.

“Katrine, do you want more laps?” It was Miche, who’d appeared behind the crowd that was gathering at the entrance of the barracks.

Katrine stepped around Levi so she was closer to the crowd, but his eyes trailed her. “You know, I think you missed a spot over there,” she said, pointing to a corner of the room, but his hand snapped out and seized her wrist, so tight that it felt like her bones were squeezing together. Sudden fury exploded behind her eyes because no man,  _ no one _ , was going to touch her ever again.

“Don’t touch me,” she snapped, wrenching her arm back, but he didn’t let go.

“Then don’t disobey me,” he said. The muscles in his forearm were taut and a tiny alarm rang in the back of her head, but she ignored it, unwilling to back down and scurry away like a cornered mouse.

She scoffed. “What are you, fifteen?”

The backhand to her jaw was so swift she had no time to brace herself, and it left her stunned and staring at the floor. The pain was breathtaking. Of all the times she’d been hit before, her face was always left alone. She touched the throbbing skin and knew there would be a horrible bruise, something ugly and disfiguring, but that was not going to stop her. Remembering her anger and her promise to herself, she ignored the pain.

Katrine took a measured step towards the door, closer to where the speechless crowd was, and looked into his eyes with steel in her gaze.

“Really thought you’d hit harder,” she said.

His expression turned thunderous and Katrine thought that he might actually try to kill her, but the moment before his eyes darkened made the pain completely worthwhile. For an instant his eyes betrayed confusion, like he was shocked that someone so much weaker than he was would defy him. But then the moment was over and he lunged towards her again while she jumped back, hands protecting her mouth. Miche and another tall Scout stepped forward and caught Levi’s arms, but they struggled against his force. Katrine could see a flash of white from his teeth and she thought again how much he looked like a rabid animal, and that despite his small stature there was an immense amount of power barely contained inside him.

_ I am not afraid of you _ , she thought, and lowered her hands to put them on her hips. She looked at him with detached interest, as if she were observing a dog in a cage.

Then someone else grabbed her arm and when she looked up she saw Section Leader Engel’s normally friendly expression contorted in irritation.

“You’re coming with me,” Engel said through grit teeth and dragged her away. Katrine brought her hand to her face again and was relieved to not see any blood, but she looked back at Levi who was no longer struggling against the two Scouts but still glowering at her with unbridled hatred. Before Engel pulled her around the corner, Katrine grinned at him, wide and mocking.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, you are such a pain in the ass.” Engel hauled Katrine to the tiny infirmary and pushed her down to sit on the floor.

“Sorry, Section Leader Engel,” Katrine said, hoping there was enough remorse in her tone.

Engel threw her a disbelieving look and rummaged through the drawers.

There was a knock at the door and Sara poked her head inside. “Katrine! Are you okay?” She ran into the room and crouched to inspect Katrine. She winced when she saw the mark. “That looks like it hurt.”

“Of course it hurt, my grandchildren are gonna feel that!” Katrine’s adrenaline was seeping away and her face was beginning to twinge like she’d been stung by a wasp.

“Sara, go get Hange for me. She’ll know how to treat this better than me,” Engel said. Sara nodded and left.

Engel wet a rag and handed it to Katrine to hold on her face. The cold sent a fresh wave of pain through her and she shuddered.

“I don’t understand where this came from. You’re perfectly respectful to me.” Engel shook her head.

“He provoked me.”

“You provoked him. And he’s the strongest person the Scouts have ever seen.”

“How strong can he be if he’s afraid of dust?”

Engel sighed like she thought Katrine was an idiot.

Sara returned with Hange and Charlotte in tow. Hange, informed of the situation, bent down to assess Katrine’s face. She poked around her mouth and inspected her teeth, while Katrine squirmed at her prodding.

“Does this hurt?” Hange tapped with two fingers on her jaw.

“Owww!”

“Thought so. Well, none of your teeth look cracked so you should be thankful for that,” Hange said. “Keep a cold compress on it to reduce the swelling, though this’ll look pretty nasty tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks,” Katrine said. “When are you gonna be done with that book on bears?” It was growing hard to move her jaw.

“I’ll give it to you now because I feel sorry for you.” Hange laughed incredulously. “I’m just surprised you’re still speaking.”

Charlotte sank to her knees and hissed through her teeth. “Is it supposed to look that red?”

“Shut up! I haven’t looked at it yet!” Katrine moaned and slumped over.

“Stay here for a few hours. I don’t want your face causing a stir,” Engel said. “I’ll tell Miche to save your punishment for tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Katrine said, and Engel left. She realized she’d had to thank a lot of people today. Charlotte rubbed her shoulder, which actually felt comforting instead of prickling, so she let her do it.

“Keep the cold rag on it for the first day, and then switch to warm after to help with circulation,” Hange said. “It’ll make it heal faster. You should massage it, too.”

“How’d y’know that?” Katrine’s voice sounded thick and slow, and she felt stupid.

“Read it a while ago when I was brushing up on medical practices. You want that one too?”

“Yeah.”

Hange stood. “I’ll get them for you, don’t want you to be bored stuck in here.” She smiled.

“Thanks,” Katrine said again.

Hange slipped out the door, and Katrine moved her arm to rest her head on it but winced when she brushed her jaw. It burned and was the only thing she could feel, but she refused to cry.

Her eyes drifted to Sara and Charlotte. “Be honest, is it bad?”

Sara shook her head emphatically while Charlotte raised her eyebrows and nodded.

* * *

Despite Katrine’s religious application of warm compresses to her face, the bruise remained stuck to her like a stain for two weeks. It also invoked a furious discussion amongst the Scouts over whether Levi was in the right for disciplining an unruly cadet, or if he’d gone too far in hitting an arguably defenseless woman. At first she’d wanted to burrow away like a wounded fox, but after she caught his uncomfortable expression when he noticed people talking about him, she displayed her wound like the beautiful diamond earrings she’d left behind in Mitras. She also loved that it clashed horribly with her red lips.

But it wasn’t enough to get her out of chores and training, or another evacuation mission under Engel to a village fifty kilometers north of Krolva. This mission was different, though, because instead of sending larger squads to Titan-infested villages in the south, Erwin had broken the Scouts into smaller groups to evacuate the sparser northern areas. Katrine was annoyed to find herself waiting to set off not with her regular group but with Engel, three men with one-syllable names she kept mixing up (Will? Bill? Dill?) and Levi, who seemed preoccupied with his horse. She looked at him warily and touched her face. The bruise still hurt if she pressed it too hard.

“Are you sure you can’t send Silas? Isn’t mapping his job?” Katrine asked Engel from atop her horse.

Engel strapped her bow on her back. “Needed somewhere else. And weren’t you the one who claimed he was wrong? You seem to have a good knowledge of the Klimt River.”

“Well-”

“Think of it as an opportunity to show your use,” Engel said, hoisting herself in her saddle. She turned forward, ending the conversation. Katrine bent forward to bury her head in the horse’s mane to stifle her groan.

She kept to the rear as they set off, paying attention to everything she could see and any strange landmarks to solidify her position in her mind. After a few kilometers through a dense forest and passing the swollen source of the Klimt River, Katrine determined their position and that they could reach their target village in six to eight hours, but Engel decided that nighttime riding was too risky. Katrine said nothing but knew she would get little sleep in the dilapidated castle with so many unfamiliar faces.

The castle was large yet bare so there was not much of interest, but she stopped at a stockroom containing an open crate with unfamiliar metal spheres. Katrine picked one up and rolled it in her hand; it was cold, smooth, and dark gray. There was a tab and a little circle at the top, like a ring.

“Be careful with that.” Katrine turned to find Engel standing behind her.

“What are these?”

“Grenades, from the looks of it.”

“Like the sound ones?”

Engel shook her head. “No, explosive ones. Must be remnants from way back.”

Katrine nodded. “Are they usable?”

“You can try if you want to risk getting your head blown off. The Scouts stopped using them since they didn’t do enough damage for the risk involved. And using one often means you get blown up with the Titans.”

“Why didn’t they just make stronger bombs?”

Engel shrugged. “Ask Commander Erwin. Anyway, you’re coming hunting with me,” she said, walking to the door and grabbing her arrows.

Katrine rose to her feet slowly. “Why me? I’m tired.”

“Quit your complaining or it’ll be me assigning the laps,” Engel said. “And I time mine!”

Katrine groaned, but Engel just laughed.

They followed the faint trail into the woods and rode until they found a small grassy clearing. Tying their horses to a tree, they crept back into the forest and listened for any sudden rustling. Katrine let Engel keep her eyes open for dinner while she stared up into the foliage and watched the fading light dopple her skin. She avoided looking at the bloody rabbits dangling from Engel’s arrows and instead tried to identify the different plants she found.

“You know, Katrine, not everyone is out to get you,” Engel said. She knelt down to yank the arrow out of a rabbit and Katrine grimaced. She hated feeling watched.

“I don’t think that,” she said, staring intently at a tall green stem with pointed leaves.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it, but everyone has your best interests at heart.”

Katrine folded her arms. “Are you getting paid to say this?”

Engel laughed. “I wish. But I think you’re smart and you could do a lot of good if you wanted to. There’s a lot of fire in you that’s not immediately evident.”

Warmth grew behind her cheeks and she looked down at her boots in the grass. Engel didn’t have to say that, didn’t have to bother with her, but she did anyway.

“Thanks,” she said, trying to suppress her smile.

“But, you can use that for everyone’s benefit and not just your own.”

Katrine scoffed. “What’s the point in that?”

“It’s like you don’t even listen to Commander Erwin’s speeches!” Engel slung the rabbits over her shoulder. “We should get back, it’ll get dark quickly.”

“So I can use my talents to not get slapped in the face again?”

Engel laughed. “I really didn’t want to feel sorry for you, but I couldn’t help it.”

“Why’s he here anyway? Can’t he evacuate an entire town on his own?”

“Commander Erwin thinks he’ll make a good captain. So I’m here to observe.”

Katrine elbowed Engel’s ribs. “Hey, let me know if you want me to cause him any problems. You know, let him demonstrate his  _ leadership _ .” She drew out the last word and gave an exaggerated salute.

Engel snorted. “And your face was finally starting to look normal again.”

They walked back to their horses and the silence was easy. Katrine decided that Engel was okay and could be trusted, and that she wouldn’t have to keep a watchful eye on her anymore. That was one less person to keep track of, and she felt the muscles in her shoulders relax.

“If we’re talking about everyone’s benefit, it would be a good idea to cut your hair. It’s a little too long,” Engel said.

Katrine grabbed her braid like it could fall off at any moment. “No way.”

Engel sighed. “I tried. Miche bet me his best whiskey that I couldn’t do it.”

She shook her head. “That’s nowhere near good enough.”

“Thought it might be better coming from me. I hope someone doesn’t try to cut it off in your sleep.”

“Guess I’ll sleep on the roof, then.”

When they reached the clearing again there was a break in the foliage. Even though the sky was darkening, the trail of red smoke was impossible to miss.

“Shit! Why didn’t I hear that?” Engel tore her reins off the tree and threw herself on her horse, galloping away. Katrine hopped on her own horse and followed, barely able to see Engel’s back in the dense maze of trees. Once they grew closer to the castle Katrine could hear the crashing and groans of the Titans, and then one sharp scream that was abruptly cut off.

While Engel moved faster, Katrine looked up at the trees, measuring their strength. She hoped that there were only a few Titans and that someone else could take them down, but she’d need another plan just in case.

“Katrine!”

Her head snapped up just as Engel galloped through the trees into the clearing where the castle stood. Engel had turned her head back and opened her mouth to shout something, but a giant fist slammed down on top of her and she was gone, nothing but blood and broken limbs.

Katrine shrieked and dropped her reins, but immediately brought her feet to her saddle and fired off her grapples to the closest tree away from the Titan. Panting and suddenly freezing, she jumped along the branches to get a better view of the castle without putting herself in immediate danger.

There were at least ten Titans that she could count, and she watched their hands pummel the castle walls. The remaining turret was twice as high as the tallest Titan, but it looked precariously frail compared to their strength. They all grinned, mouths agape, and she could see their glistening tongues and teeth as large as her head.

But suddenly one of them bellowed and collapsed, and then another, and Katrine saw a flash of green that ricocheted between them nearly faster than her eyes could register, faster than she could ever dream of moving. She knew without seeing his face that it was Levi, because it couldn’t be anyone else, but he moved in such an impossible way she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. Gaping, she watched him fly between the Titans, slashing their necks as easily as cutting through cloth. Every movement was perfect, but so effortless, like he knew unconsciously where to land instead of calculating every possible move or mistake. She thought of all the hours she’d spent perfecting every step, every minute detail, every time she stumbled and fell, and it looked like he’d never fallen at all.

A Titan punched one of the broken castle walls and stones fell to the ground, causing her to flinch and snap her mouth shut. Levi landed on the only remaining turret on one foot. The other trailed behind him, and the way his foot hung looked unnatural. The spell was broken.

Though there were more Titan carcasses on the ground than live ones wandering around, it seemed like more were coming. Katrine could hear trees splintering in the distance and wondered if Levi really had the strength to kill the rest of them. He might be out of blades, or gas, or energy. She was sure he wasn’t immortal.

There was a sharp scream to her right, and her eyes darted over. It was one of the other Scouts, wailing as a Titan lumberd towards him. She could faintly see his red face through the trees. He might have broken his gear, or a leg, but whatever the case, he was a goner.

Levi turned at the scream too and promptly shot himself towards it.

_ Is he stupid? There’s no point- _

Another Titan rammed into the trees near her and she yelped again, jumping to another branch and away from it. This was different than before, when there was all open space and nowhere to run. Here there were trees, things to latch onto, and Katrine thought that if she were fast enough then she might be able to fly up over the forest and outspeed them. From there she could decide if she wanted to go back to the Scouts and claim that everyone died, or play dead and figure out something else.

The Titan hauled itself to its feet and struck its hand into a tree, snapping it like a twig.

_ I need to go, now, they’re all going to die anyway. _

Katrine leaped forward at the same time the Titan did and it shot its hand out, and suddenly time seemed to slow and the hand was all she saw instead of the branch she was aiming towards. It was massive, and the fingers were thicker than the biggest person she’d ever seen. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she was faster.

Something slammed into her and her eyes opened but it wasn’t the Titan’s hand. It was Levi, grimacing in pain and with that same angry look of determination as when he’d hit her. He pinned her to his chest with an arm that felt like the jaws of a trap and skid to a stop on the roof of the crumbling castle. She dropped out of his grasp and felt the rough stone scrape against her face. Her skin was still screaming at his touch, even through her layers of clothing.

She gasped. “What the-”

He grabbed her bicep. “Get near the turret,” he shouted and yanked her to her feet. He grappled towards it and flew off.

Katrine followed him, dumbstruck. Why would he bother trying to save her, after what she’d done? If their positions were reversed she certainly wouldn’t do the same. He was so much stronger; what was the point of saving someone weaker if it hindered his own survival?

From their position on the roof they could see the Titans pawing at the stone walls and more crawling out of the forest.

“There’s more coming and this turret won’t hold,” he said. “But it’s the safest place for you.” 

Katrine couldn’t stop staring at his distorted ankle. “What happened to your foot?”

“It’s broken. I just have to be careful,” he said.

“You can’t fight all of them on one leg,” she said.

“I have to.”

There had to be a better way, one that didn’t depend on whether Levi could slaughter ten Titans on one foot, and then maybe another ten. Katrine was not going to wait around to watch. But now that he was here, there was no way she could just run off without him seeing. Would he let her flee or force her to die with him? 

She tore her eyes away from the Titans and assessed the castle. The eastern part had a crater in the side that threatened to collapse, but the Titans had moved to the turret and the stone walls couldn’t hold for much longer. She then saw a wooden trapdoor that probably led to the interior, and she gasped.

“The grenades!” Katrine tore open the door and threw herself inside, grasping onto the ladder before she crashed to the floor below. Right as she ran down the hallway and found the crate of grenades, she heard Levi’s voice from the trapdoor.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“There’s grenades here!” She grabbed two and ran back to the ladder just as a Titan punched the wall and sent a shudder through the floor, nearly throwing her to her knees.

“How’s that supposed to help?” She could hear the doubt in his tone.

With some difficulty Katrine ascended the ladder, trying to hold the grenades without jostling them. She was wary that they might explode in her face and unceremoniously end everything. She hoisted herself back onto the roof and saw that Titans were still oozing out of the forest. One abnormally small one was clutching at a sturdy tree that was wider than it was; the tree was tall enough and blocked enough sunlight that no other trees grew near it. Katrine nodded, the plan materializing in her head, and her anxiety transformed into determination.

“There’s a whole crate of explosive grenades down there. We’ll detonate these and throw them down the trapdoor. Then we’ll latch onto that tree and swing off into the air,” she said, pointing at the sturdy tree. “I’ll need both our gas canisters to get enough power.”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

Katrine blinked. She realized she shouldn’t have been surprised. And why was she including him in the plan anyway? It would be helpful to have his gas, but she’d be fine on her own without the extra weight.

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. Good luck with that,” she said, nodding towards the swarm of Titans.

“Those grenades don’t have enough power. There’s a reason why no one uses them anymore. And you don’t even know if they still work.”

“I’d rather get blown up than eaten alive.” Katrine remembered Engel’s comment from earlier that day and bit her lip hard at the memory, but shoved her gory death back into the recesses of her mind. She barely knew Engel anyway. But she’d been kind, kinder than Katrine deserved.

“Fine, go blow yourself up. Should’ve expected it from you,” he said.

"Then enjoy getting sent to hell. Send me a sign if it's better than the Underground."

His expression turned unnerving, like she’d pulled a knife and stabbed him in the gut. His eyes looked glassy and black, almost inhuman. She thought he was going to lunge forward and punch her again. "You have no idea what you're fucking talking about."

"I do know what I'm fucking talking about." She gripped the grenade tighter.

"You’re from  _ Mitras _ .” He spat the word out like it was poison.

Katrine barked a mirthless laugh. “How do you think I got there? You really think they take nice girls from Mitras?" She'd said those words sharper than intended, and the ensuing silence felt like it had a malicious presence, despite the pounding and roars of the Titans surrounding them.

Levi stared back at her, eyes still hostile, but there was that same look of confusion that she'd seen before, and it remained on his face instead of flickering away. 

There was a sudden jolt and both of them flinched.

"Do whatever you want, I don’t need you,” Katrine said, and shot her grapples to the turret, preparing to jump to the top.

“Wait,” he said, and she stopped but didn’t turn.

“It probably is better to get blown up than eaten,” he said. He said it softly, in a tone that seemed strange coming from someone like him, and she turned around. Raking his fingers in his hair, he stared at the hoard clamoring below. He stood on his good leg and the broken one hovered behind him.

Katrine wondered if he was really so certain that they might die, and realized that he didn’t have much faith in her strategy. She raised her chin and put her hands on her hips, because she was going to spite those Titans and leave them gaping, and he could join them if he wanted. She grappled to the turret and assessed the mass of Titans. They’d gathered at the bottom of the turret, jostling and shoving at each other like animals fighting over meat, and the one beside the thick tree was gone. A few moments later Levi was beside her.

“We’ll need to strap these together,” she said, tapping the leather harness at her thigh. He grimaced and she rolled her eyes. “Get over yourself.” She unbuckled one of her harnesses and looped it through his, trying desperately to avoid touching his leg too much. He pursed his lips and looked away like she was about to jab him with a needle. Once they were sufficiently attached, they both stepped onto a battlement.

Katrine handed him the grenades. “I need you to throw these in the trapdoor if you can. My aim is terrible,” she said, wrapping her hair around her neck. Levi took them and seemed relieved to have some part of the plan he could control.

“You throw it and tell me when, then we’ll grapple to that branch and swing off. We need to stay close to the ground for momentum and then use the gas once we reach the right trajectory,” she said. He nodded.

She put one arm around him and felt the muscles in her fingers clench. Without hesitation he tore the pins out of the grenades and with both of them in one hand, he wrapped the other around her waist. She hated the way his fingers dug into her side and kept her eyes on the branch. Turning back, he lobbed the grenades towards the trapdoor.

“Now!” he shouted, and they both shot grapples to the branch, and once they made purchase they jumped off and swung down, towards the open hands of the Titans. Katrine thought she felt one of their fingers brush her skin, or it could have been the wind, but she refused to look and trusted that she’d kept the wire short enough to avoid their crushing grip.

They swooped towards the ground and when they were directly beneath the branch Katrine activated her gas and elbowed Levi to copy her, and they shot upwards into the sky. The air rushed in her ears and she squeezed her eyes into slits to keep them from watering. When they’d swung enough to fly towards the sky instead of directly into another tree, she released the grapples and he did the same.

And then they were soaring, above the trees and past the reach of even the tallest of Titans, and Katrine felt her lips turn up a bit because she was still alive and breathing. But there was no explosion, nothing that hinted that the grenades had detonated, and she craned her head back to look.

Levi grimaced. “I knew those grenades were dead-”

The blast was deafening, stronger than she’d anticipated, and sent a blast of hot air that Katrine could feel on the back of her neck. She heard the castle implode and the screams of the Titans crushed under it, and she hoped that it was painful. Twisting her head around, she saw the airborne remnant of a Titan’s hand and she cackled. “I was right-”

“Keep your head down! There’s debris!”

Something whizzed by her face and Katrine shrank into him, but balked when she felt the warmth of his chest through her shirt and pulled herself away. She made the mistake of extending her leg and something sharp cut her thigh, but she bit down on her lip to keep herself from making any noise and ignored the blooming stain of blood. For a moment she hoped that she hadn’t revealed any hint of fear or doubt to him. But why did it matter what he thought? 

They were flying over the forest, far away from the ruined castle and the Titans, and Katrine squinted at the sea of trees before her, calculating where they were going to land. She was used to landing from great heights on her own, but with their combined weight, the landing would be tricky.

“Look at that,” Levi said, pointing back towards the explosion. “In the tree.” Katrine turned and squinted. In the glare of the sunset it was difficult to tell what he was pointing at, but then she saw a glint of red and pale skin. It was a Titan with flaming red hair, staring at them with a look that was almost intelligent.

“How did it get up there?” she asked. But she noticed the wind whipping at her face was growing weaker, and they were losing speed and reaching the apex of their trajectory.

Levi noticed it too and turned to her, expression worried. “How do you plan on landing?” 

_ Shit. I forgot to explain that.  _ “Uhh…”

They reached the moment of weightlessness and stillness. While it was normally a moment she appreciated, one of silence and beauty, his presence was ruining it. But then gravity started to suck them back down and her stomach rose to her throat.

“Did you not have a plan?” His voice was sharp and she felt his fingers dig into her side. Infuriated, she struggled against him.

“Of course I have a plan!” She had to yell over the roar of the wind.

“Then why didn’t you bother telling me?”

“Because you said my plan was stupid!”

“I still think it’s stupid!”

“Then unbuckle yourself and fuck off!”

Levi scowled and looked like he wanted to berate her more, but their speed was mounting and Katrine decided that she was going to do the same thing she always did and had done successfully every time, regardless of his opinion.

“Fine, tell me what to do,” he said in resignation.

With no time to waste, Katrine pointed to the first branch she saw that looked sturdy. “Grapple on that one, retract the cables, and shoot back up. LIke before, but use the gas against your momentum to slow yourself down.”

He said nothing, but his expression was skeptical.

“Now!” She shot her grapples to the branch and braced herself, clutching him tighter and ignoring the warnings blaring in her head. He followed and they dived into the leaves.


	7. Chapter 7

_ Year 846: Six months after the fall of Shiganshina _

Katrine knew she should have considered herself lucky that she hadn’t died in their plummet to the forest floor when she miscalculated the landing, due to the dense branches and the fear of breaking a leg. Instead she landed on her side, ribs squeezed between the ground and Levi’s surprisingly substantial weight, and immediately wished that her neck had snapped. Her left index finger screamed, clearly broken; a wave of anger overtook her and she struggled to push him off. Every part of her burned - her finger, the scratches on her face from the leaves, and most of all the place where his thigh pressed against hers. She dug in her waistband frantically for her knife to sever the straps, but when she’d grasped the hilt and pulled it out he’d already drawn his own and cut himself free. All Scouts carried knives, but this one had a dangerous glint in his hand.

Levi narrowed his eyes at the sight of her knife, but instead of drawing back he leaned forward and touched the blade, tracing the tiny inscription at the hilt. Katrine froze, unsure of his intentions.

“Where did you get this?” His voice had a strange hitch to it.

_ So, he finally remembers. _ “Flea market,” she said, and pushed herself off the ground.

He stood too, not breaking his stare, and she eyed his hand still holding the knife. “No,” he said. “No, that was you. At that place in Mitras.”

“You’ve probably been to a lot of places in Mitras,” she said, wondering why she kept dodging his question.

“Not any other where I got that much money,” he said.

Five years ago, thieves had broken into the Mitras Company in the middle of the night and that girl, Isabel, had quite literally fallen upon Katrine as she crept out of a vent. Isabel initially claimed she was alone and looking for food, but after Katrine gave her some bread, she soon revealed that she was searching for valuables. Katrine admired her gall and fearlessness and promised her the Swan Queen Crown until the two men arrived, the tall silent one and the short biting one. Then she decided to exchange it for something worthwhile. The knife was small and deadly and made her feel safer, despite her lack of any knowledge on how to use it. She and all the girls had gotten switches to their thighs for the robbery, but it was more than worth it to see Mr. Kaiser’s panicked yelp at the discovery and his red, sniveling face.

Unwilling to respond, Katrine inspected her throbbing and immobile finger, but at least the bone wasn’t protruding. She thought that if they made it back to the Scouts, she’d pretend it was worse so she’d get out of chores.

“You look different now,” Levi said. He furrowed his brow like he was trying to figure out exactly how her face had changed, and his scrutiny made her uneasy.

“Where’s your friend? Isabel, right?”

He didn’t say anything and all she could hear was the wind in the leaves and the distant call of a bird. The dying sunlight hit his face, making his eyes shine like the hottest sparks of a flame, and Katrine remembered how he sliced through those Titans and imagined it would take even less effort to do the same to her. His silence was unnerving and dread sank into her shoulders. She’d said something wrong and she should have known, should have anticipated that, and now he was going to hit her in the face again or slit her throat and leave her to rot alone.

“She died.” He turned away to shield his eyes from the sun, but it seemed like his shoulders had slumped a fraction. In her memory, where she faced Isabel on that threadbare sofa and listened to her complain about her neighbors, purple bruises bloomed around her neck. 

“I’m sorry,” Katrine said, after a long silence. Maybe it was better to say that instead of nothing, but she wasn’t sure.

“We need to get moving,” he said quickly, like he didn’t want to dwell on her. “And we don’t know where we are.” He finally put his knife away.

Katrine looked to where the last of the sunset shone through the trees and closed her eyes, remembering where it was in the sky when they’d flown off the castle. To the east, she thought; not bad, that meant they were nearer to Wall Rose. South would have been better because they’d be closer to Krolva, but there was no time to complain.

“We should move east to get to Wall Rose. If the map was correct we’re maybe fifteen kilometers from Krolva,” she said.

Levi’s expression turned exhausted and the glint in his eyes was gone. “How are you so sure?”

“Read the map.” She gave him a condescending look to remind herself that she wasn’t completely powerless.

Levi turned to face east as well and was quiet, but then nodded. “We need to make some progress with the light that’s left.” He hobbled over to wrench off a low branch from a tree. It was thick enough that Katrine was surprised that he could rip it out without much effort. “It’s possible we could run into a village that hasn’t been evacuated yet,” he said, picking off a few leaves, “but don’t count on it.” He leaned on the branch, testing its strength, and then walked in the direction she’d pointed without looking back to see if she followed.

Katrine bounded after him; he was unnaturally fast even on a broken leg. She stared at the back of his head, and then his ankle, and frowned. Why did he bother saving her back at the castle, something so self-sacrificing? That didn’t make sense for someone coming from the Underground, where being selfish meant you stayed alive. Did he want something from her? That was probably it. A cold and familiar twinge of fear crept down her spine. Normally she felt safer having the knife, but it was useless now that she knew the full extent of his skill. Though whatever his reasons were, it seemed like too much effort to risk his own life to just pluck her out of the grasp of a Titan.

Just as baffling was the fact that she’d told him her plan and strapped herself willingly to him to escape. It was probably because she didn’t want to owe him for saving her, and that survival was more likely with the two of them. Or was it because they were from the same place, broken dirty things that somehow found a place hiding amongst the clean and new? And for that matter, why’d she even blurt out that she was from the Underground? He hadn’t even remembered, and it would be so much easier if no one knew. People liked to pretend that the Underground didn’t exist, and didn’t want to think about the filth down there.

“Where are you from?” Levi asked, breaking her thoughts.

“Left Bank,” Katrine said to the ground. “What about you?”

“Grand Boulevard.”

She raised her eyebrows. That place was violent, one she’d never ventured near. “It really was grand.”

He scoffed. She couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a laugh.

“When did you leave?” he asked.

“I was picked at four or five, but I wasn’t in Mitras permanently until twelve,” she said.

“Permanently?”

“They won’t keep you if you’re not good enough.”

Levi didn’t respond to that, and she gazed up at the faint stars dotting the sky. For the first time she was thankful that Engel had ordered them to stop so early. Katrine considered what she’d said, doing something for the greater good, which really did seem like a bad idea. But it felt wrong to abandon him. That would be like taking one shoe and leaving the other; it was nonsensical.

She tugged at her hair, hoping that Engel hadn’t died just because she was trying to warn her. But even if that wasn’t true, Engel probably would’ve died anyway. She would have chosen everyone else first, something Katrine didn’t understand.

“What do you mean, picked?” Levi asked.

“Picked by the man from the Company.” Katrine wasn’t going to tell him that her mother had shoved her right toward him. “I heard Erwin went all the way down there and pulled you out himself? That’s impressive,” she said, intent on putting the focus on him.

“Not quite like that,” he said.

“What, then?”

“It’s a long story that I’m too tired to tell.”

“Oh, so it’s true you were a coderoin trafficker, an assassin, and that you kidnapped the treasurer’s wife?”

Levi sighed like he really was tired. “Is that what you’ve heard?” 

She’d heard many variants of the tale, some sordid, some romantic, all unrealistic. “Not the worst thing.”

“They need something better to talk about.” He jabbed the point of his stick into the ground.

“Don’t tell anyone. I have an image to maintain,” she said.

“What image?” His tone was mocking, but when she glared at him, he didn’t look malicious. There was no reason to trust him, but it didn’t seem like he wanted to ruin her.

The sun vanished and darkness fell; it was growing harder to see. Katrine rubbed her arms, trying to stave off the frigid air biting at her skin and the fear of the unknown hiding in the shadows. A Titan could rear out at any moment. At least she had gas left, and two good legs. They were even now and it was fine to leave him behind. But before that happened, there was a question she needed answered, one that kept crawling up her throat no matter how many times she swallowed it down.

“How much did you get for that crown?”

“Ten thousand,” Levi said.

“Huh.” That seemed like both too much and too little. She folded her arms tighter.

“That paid for a lot of medicine,” he said.

She hadn’t done it for medicine. All she’d been thinking about was the grumbling of Isabel’s stomach and even more so the satisfaction of seeing the horrified look on Mr. Kaiser’s face when he realized the crown was gone. But, maybe their bruises were worth more than that. She hoped the other girls would have felt the same, even if they’d never know.

At the end of the path there was a break in the trees and Katrine could see in the distance brown structures, ones too squat and square to be trees. Her heart soared and she gasped when she realized they were houses, part of a town, and that meant people.

“A village!” She sprinted ahead, fantasizing about fireplaces and blankets and a warm meal. Her mouth watered thinking of meat and potatoes.

“Wait,” Levi said, a warning in his tone, but Katrine ignored him. When she reached the edge of the village it appeared normal, with small wooden houses and stables and a dirt path leading through, but when she stopped to listen and heard only the banging of shutters, her hope faded. It was unnaturally quiet and the only human noise was her panting, like she was the only living thing left. 

“Looks like this was already evacuated,” Levi said, appearing at her side. “It’s too clean to have been destroyed by Titans.” He didn’t seem particularly surprised or disappointed, while Katrine felt stupid for not thinking of that earlier.

“I just wanted food,” she said and groaned.

“Told you not to get your hopes up.”

Katrine turned away and rolled her eyes. He probably thought he was never wrong. She walked along the path, hoping the villagers had left behind a couple of chickens or even a horse, but all she saw were empty coops and tangled vegetable patches. The cold air and desolation made her feel lonely, knowing that the people who grew those vegetables and raised the chickens were never coming back. The town seemed like such a simple place to live, and she imagined herself picking tomatoes and corralling sheep. The only things she’d have to wash off were soil and sweat.

“I always wondered what it would be like to grow up in one of these,” she said.

“Every place has something better,” Levi said. “Or worse.”

“Like what?”

He kicked at a rock. “Getting mauled by a bear.”

“Or a Titan,” she said. “Much safer in the Underground. Maybe I’ll move back.”

He snorted again. She hoped it was a laugh.

They were quiet again, and somewhere a door slammed against the wind. Goosebumps prickled down her arms and her finger ached. She could see the hot clouds of her breath hanging in the air.

“Well, this is better than the ground for the night. Go look for food,” Levi said, nodding towards the vines. “I’ll find medical supplies.”

Katrine nodded, glad for something to do.

“Meet me at the red one,” he said, pointing to the largest house down the road.

Katrine hopped over a rickety fence and picked through the fields to find rotten vegetables and dead brown vines. The first two houses had only sacks of flour and rice bitten through by vermin, but the third had a spotless pantry that was empty save for a few silver tins that looked promising. She snatched one up and tore it open, hoping for dried meat or fruit, and was sorely disappointed when it was nothing but tea leaves. The aromatic smell sent her empty stomach reeling and infuriated, she hurled the tin at the wall and felt better when the dry black leaves scattered across the floor.

Dejected, Katrine returned to the red house clutching a zucchini with a few suspicious brown spots and the firmest carrot she could find. She felt like she’d failed and hoped Levi wouldn’t yell at her or give her that surly glare like he thought she was the most hideous thing imaginable. Her single hardtack bar would have to do, but she didn’t want to share.

When she opened the door she found that Levi had already started a fire and set his ankle in the living room. It had a few cushy chairs draped with blankets that looked cozy to sleep in. He glanced up at her as he pulled his boot back on, but he didn’t react when she dropped her paltry bounty on the table. “Guess you didn’t find much,” he said.

She unbuckled her ODM gear and sat next to the fireplace, holding up her hands to absorb the warmth. “No. Only thing that wasn’t rotten or eaten by rats was some tea leaves.” 

His entire face transformed. It was like she’d just told him there was a banquet waiting for him. “Where?” he asked, almost breathlessly.

“In the yellow house,” she said, pointing. He was out the door in seconds, nearly running, not limping in the slightest.

Katrine snickered. Levi was strange, stranger than his demeanor hinted. Sara and Charlotte would die laughing when she told them. She split the zucchini open and shrieked when she found tiny black worms wriggling in the flesh and threw the pieces into the fire.

Levi returned carrying three tins of tea as she attempted to bite down on her hardtack without breaking a tooth. Somehow he looked triumphant without even smiling. “Fucking rats. Knocked over the rarest one,” he muttered, setting the tins down and inspecting them. 

Katrine set the hardtack down and made sure to keep her face neutral. So he did have a weakness. If he tried anything funny she’d throw a tin at him; that was a good deterrent. “Glad you found a way to make this worthwhile,” she said.

“I like to look on the bright side of things,” he said. “I need to set your finger.”

“I can do it myself.” It couldn’t be much different than setting a broken toe.

“Sure, if you want it to heal crooked.”

Katrine didn’t relish the idea of letting him touch her again, but also didn’t want to possibly ruin her finger just for the sake of her pride. Victoria had always said her hands were pretty. She chomped down on the hardtack and walked over to him to present her hand, keeping her arm straight and tense. Her skin felt cold away from the fire and his hand was warmer than she’d expected. She concentrated on grinding the hardtack between her teeth instead of his calloused fingers.

“Those taste better with tea,” he said.

“Hmm?” 

“Softens them.” He wrapped gauze around her finger. 

“I don’t have any tea,” she said, still chewing.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, that’s disgusting.”

Katrine swallowed and grimaced at the pain in her throat. “What are you, my mother?”

“Wouldn’t want to be. There’s gotta be a map in here somewhere.” He finished bandaging her finger and she quickly withdrew her hand.

“I’ll look,” she said, claustrophobic, and walked towards the back of the house to what looked like a study. It was clear that this place must have belonged to the wealthiest person in town because it was well-furnished and cozy, but the desk’s corners were worn and the fabric on the chair stained. She dug through the desk’s single drawer and found papers tracking expenses, orders of seeds, and then finally a torn section of a map. The ink was faint and it only depicted a quarter of the walls, but it showed where Krolva was and that was good enough. 

Finally having done something right, Katrine walked back to the living room where Levi rested his broken foot on the table, blowing the steam away from a cup of tea. There was another one at the further edge of the table, apparently waiting for her. She raised her eyebrows, surprised that he’d done something so...nice.

Levi took the map and inspected it, brow furrowed. “Where’s the rest of this?” He sounded unimpressed.

Katrine flopped into her chair and whatever gratitude she had towards him evaporated. “Whoever lived here probably didn’t need it.” She took a sip of the tea and wrinkled her nose at its bitterness. “This tastes like dirt.”

“Not going to waste the better stuff on you. What did you say? Fifteen kilometers away from Krolva?”

“We walked for about two.” She dipped her hardtack into the tea and chewed on it. It was much easier to eat; he was right about that.

“Thirteen kilometers. All forest, though. But we’re not throwing ourselves over the trees like maniacs this time.”

Katrine sneered at her reflection in the tea. “I’ll leave you behind if you’re too slow.”

Levi continued to analyze the map, tracing the roads with his finger. “If you made it to Mitras from the Underground, then why’d you leave?”

That was too probing, too personal, and made her feel like he could see every memory race behind her eyes. “To find a husband,” she said, and gulped at her tea, scalding her throat.

He scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”

Anger shot down her spine and she wanted to say something to shock him, something to leave him speechless and exposed like she was, because he really had no idea what it was like in Mitras. “Because I didn’t want to die there,” she said hotly, and immediately regretted it. She didn’t know what he did to keep surviving in the Underground, probably nothing like what she’d done.

His expression remained indifferent. “Better to die eaten by a Titan than buried under all your jewelry?”

“Getting eaten by a Titan is like dying in a flood,” she said with a shrug. “You can’t get mad at a natural disaster. Or get even.”

“You can’t get even with anything if you’re dead.”

“If it’s a person, someone else can.”

He turned and scrutinized her, like that wasn’t the answer he was expecting. It was what she’d wanted, but somehow it seemed like a mistake.

Suddenly Katrine caught a writhing movement at the corner of her eye and yelped when she saw a rat scuttling across the edge of the floor. Before she knew it she was standing on her chair, breath caught in her lungs and eyeing its bulging stomach and bald tail, anticipating it crawling up her leg and then for hundreds of others to pour out of the walls and smother her.

Levi stood and lunged forward, startling the rat, and swooped down and plucked it up by its tail like he knew exactly where the rat would move before it did. He opened the door and tossed it into the night air. After walking back inside he grimaced and looked down at his hand. “Nasty,” he muttered, wiping it on his pants.

Katrine slowly stepped off the chair and sat back down, embarrassed that he’d seen her react so strongly to a rat. She was surprised that he didn’t kill it, though, because he seemed too harsh to bother throwing it to safety rather than just smashing it. He had such deadly force at his fingertips that she wondered why he chose not to use it.

He caught her questioning look. “Did it all the time down there.”

“You could have killed it.”

Levi shrugged. “If I’m ever caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, hopefully they’ll do the same instead of stepping on me.”

Katrine stared at the corner of the wall where the rat had been. She didn’t think Levi would ever be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, or be afraid of something so harmless. “So, you’re not scared of anything, right?” she asked, to prove her theory.

He shook his head. “I’m scared of Titans.”

“Everyone is. I mean those little things that you shouldn’t be afraid of but still give you nightmares,” she said. “Like dust.”

He was silent for a moment, long enough for her to think that she might have terribly offended him, until he opened his mouth and gave her an answer that was the strangest out of all the strange things she’d learned about him today.

“Snakes,” he said.

Katrine cocked her head. “Snakes,” she repeated. She’d imagined he would be afraid of something fearsome with sharp teeth and claws, dripping saliva.

“They’re...unnatural. Slithering around in the dirt. Didn’t know they existed until I made it outside the walls and I almost stepped on one. That thing moved  _ sideways _ . Scared the shit outta me. Then Hange told me that it might be poisonous and now I look everywhere I step.”

She wanted to laugh but thought better of it, and instead pressed down the smile tugging at her lips.

“You should get some sleep,” he said.

“I’m not tired,” Katrine said, despite the weariness in her bones and the dull throb of her finger.

“You don’t know how long it’ll take us tomorrow. I’ll take first watch.”

No use arguing, but it would be difficult to sleep with his presence hovering over her like a bad smell. Katrine nestled herself into the chair and drew her blanket over her head, but formed a tiny crack to peer out at him. For an hour she watched him, waiting for him to reveal his true nature, but he just stared out the window, motionless and silent. The warmth of the fire was comforting and then her eyelids were too heavy to bear, and soon she was asleep.

* * *

When Levi was eight and lived in the fourth floor walk-up on Sterling Avenue, he liked to watch the orange cat that picked through the garbage heap below and stalked the mice unfortunate enough to venture there.

“Filthy animal,” Kenny had said when he saw what Levi was staring at, and spat out the window.

But Levi was enchanted by the cat because it cut through the dirt and filth instead of being consumed by it, and dug through the trash for hours and always emerged spotless and victorious. It perched on the edge of the stairway railing and feasted on its prize of meat or bone, and with a flick of its ear to the shopkeeper who perpetually tried and failed to beat it with a broom, it flew down to the ground and fled to safety. It streaked through the air while every other living thing in the Underground trudged as if its bones were made of iron. 

One day when Kenny had made him sleep outside for looking at him wrong, he sat and waited in the shadows and contemplated the buzzing streetlamp, a sickly yellow in a sea of dirty gray. His vision was hazy, gloomy, until a blaze of orange crept from out of the shadows and sniffed the air, a color so vivid and glossy that it screamed in the silence.

The cat crouched and gnawed at a bone, swishing its tail in an endless, fluid motion. Levi pressed himself into a ball and stilled every muscle, balanced on the very edges of his toes. He thought that if he were just quiet enough, and only took the tiniest of breaths, he could inch his fingers forward and brush the tip of its tail, and take a bit of that magic for himself-

And then the cat was in the air, shooting straight up like a bullet, like Levi had sent a jolt of fear into its tail and every bone crashed together in an effort to escape. It seemed to think that if it leapt with enough force it could tear its own tail off just to get away from him. In a flash the cat was gone and there was only silence and gray again, like he’d crushed the tiny bit of life creeping out from under the filth. Levi was sorry, so sorry that he’d scared the cat, and it was so obvious on his face that Kenny tried to smack it off.

He remembered that cat, and how awful he felt, when he shook Katrine’s shoulder to wake her and in an instant she threw herself halfway across the room, landing on the balls of her feet and balanced on the hand with the broken finger. Her other arm shielded her mouth, fingers splayed and taut. Even though he couldn’t see the remnant of the bruise on her jaw it was enough to add to his pile of guilt, the guilt that never truly vanished, something Kenny had tried and failed to beat out of him. Her eyes gleamed like ice in the early morning sunlight, so wide they were more white than blue, and he thought that if he’d seen the cat’s eyes that day they would have looked something like hers.

“It’s sunrise,” Levi said, painfully aware of his own voice.

Katrine blinked, and then blinked again, and looked around like she had woken up in a place she’d never seen before. “...Right,” she said, and slowly stood. She looked out the window and touched her braid with one hand.

“It snowed,” he said, and felt stupid for pointing out the obvious.

She brought her other hand to her hair. “It did.” The words sounded like it took her a monstrous effort to form them.

“We should head out soon,” Levi said, picking up his ODM gear and his bag of tea and walking outside. He thought he should give her space, and didn’t want to step on her and crush all the life inside her. Though Katrine acted like she was made of steel, he knew now that it was more like porcelain. After staring out the window for hours, searching for danger in the stillness, he finally figured out why he hadn’t remembered her, why she looked different - there was a vigilant look in her eyes and cruelty in her tone that wasn’t there before.

A light blanket of snow covered the ground, the kind that would vanish in a few hours of sunlight but looked pristine and glittering. He almost wanted to wait for the sun to melt it before he ruined it with his footsteps, but that was a ridiculous thought that he banished with a sharp exhale. A cloud of breath formed before his face and the cold made his ankle twinge.

The door slammed shut and Katrine stepped into the frost, eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun. The frightened look from before was gone, like he’d only imagined it, but it still hovered in the back of his mind like an apparition. The guilt flooded back.

“When I first saw snow I thought my hands were going to freeze off,” Levi said. It was an offering, an apology.

She tilted her head back and stared at the sky, a solid sheet of light gray. “One of the older girls told me the sky was breaking and I cried so hard I passed out.” She laughed. “I was stupid to fall for it. I was six, I think.”

“Twenty-six,” he said.

She looked at him and her eyes softened, and it reminded him of everyone else who gave him that same look when they remembered that he was from the Underground, beneath them, and filthy no matter how hard he scrubbed. Levi hated that look, hated that she would even look at him like that, and hated that slash of red at her lips.

“Thought of any bright ideas?” he asked, not bothering to hide the edge in his voice.

“You’d think they’re all stupid.” She consulted the map and started walking down the path, oblivious to her footsteps marring the snow. Levi followed her, wondering how they were going to make it to Krolva alive. He could use ODM, and though he didn’t want to risk injuring his leg any further that seemed like the best option. He weighed the probability of having enough gas to make it when she halted and he nearly ran into her. 

“The hell are you doing?” he snapped.

Katrine stared at a barn, lips parted, and stood so still he was unsure if she heard him. He was about to snap his fingers in her face when she sprinted to the barn and stopped at a wagon. She clambered into the driver’s seat and put her hands on her hips.

“Can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier,” she muttered, and jumped to the ground and disappeared behind the back of the wagon.

Levi rubbed his forehead, wary of the direction this was going. “Gonna tell me this brilliant idea of yours?”

“How much gas do you have?” she called out, still hidden.

“A quarter.” It was not enough to get him to Krolva, or even halfway there.

Katrine didn’t respond and he trudged to the back of the wagon, mostly annoyed but also stifling his curiosity. She had both hands on the back of the wagon, trying to push it forward, but the wagon refused to budge.

“I can already tell this won’t work,” he said.

Katrine held up the map and pointed to the road leading to Krolva. “It’s mostly a straight shoot to Krolva except for this bend here by the ravine. So, if we’re trying to get both of us there on one set of gas canisters, we should use a wagon. It’s all forest, so no reason the ODM can’t handle pulling this along. Hit two trees on either side of the road and it’ll drag the wagon forward.”

Levi stared at her, long enough for her to know that he thought she was an idiot, and snorted. “That’s fucking ridiculous.”

“Isn’t that what you said at the castle?” she asked. “And who’s alive and still complaining?”

“This has so many flaws that ridiculous doesn’t even begin to cover it. Can the grapples even handle the weight? And what are you gonna do if you tip over?”

Katrine shrugged. “Everything has a learning curve.” She resumed pushing.

Levi realized that she must have some sort of death wish, and wanted to die in a flashy, heroic way that would get people talking for weeks and maybe even a newspaper article. He was certain that she’d done even stupider things before joining the Scouts, and had only made it this far because of dumb luck. “You can’t even move this,” he said, watching her fail to budge the wagon.

“Just need to get it started,” she said, voice strained.

Levi grit his teeth. He hadn’t had much of a choice at the castle, but it was miraculous that he hadn’t broken his other leg or more so his skull. Though here he also didn’t have much of a choice, because he had a quarter tank of gas and three blades left. She could leave him there if she wanted. He groaned, hating the feeling of helplessness swirling in his gut. “Find a smaller one. The cables can support the weight better.”

Katrine dropped her hands and looked at him, face flushed with exertion. “Isn’t this a brilliant idea?” She smirked and he dug his heel into the ground, wincing at the pain in his ankle.

“I’m not sitting in anything that reeks of pig shit,” Levi said and walked back to the main road. He heard her quick footsteps behind him but refused to turn around and see her triumphant grin.

They made it to the end of the village before they found a wagon that was both small enough to move easily and didn’t smell like a dead animal. Katrine rolled her eyes and muttered something petulant for every wagon he rejected, but Levi wasn’t going to let her have all the power. The road spit them out into the forest, where a faint trail marked the route to Krolva. Katrine scrutinized the map and determined that they had reached the correct one.

“You should steer,” she said. “Don’t want to damage your bum leg.”

The cart was small and unassuming, probably used for transporting vegetables, and Levi hoped it wouldn’t splinter apart holding their weight. The only mechanism it had for steering was a rusty hitch. He gingerly stepped inside and sat. While he pushed at the hitch to make sure it actually worked, Katrine stood behind him and adjusted her gear. Her boots were too close to him and he cringed at the thought of more dirt on him. When she leaned over to adjust her canisters her braid brushed his shoulder.

“Get your hair out of my face,” he said.

“Don’t touch my hair,” she said, but wrapped it around her neck. He thought it looked like she was daring someone to try to choke her. “Last chance to bail out.”

“Get on with it.” 

Katrine shot her grapples forward, piercing the trunks of two trees on opposite sides of the road, and the cart shot forward. Though it moved without much resistance the force of the ODM recoil nearly yanked Katrine off her feet and she gasped in surprise, and before Levi could think to stop himself he grabbed her leg to keep her from tumbling out. His fingers dug into her thigh and when he felt her muscles tense he suddenly remembered her dancing in the night air, balanced on that leg and ready to fly, and wondered if those two people were really the same. It didn’t seem possible that someone who’d wrenched herself out of the filth of the Underground could become so graceful and light.

She leaned forward, resting her hand on his shoulder to steady herself, and he glanced at her thin fingers. It was the same hand, he knew, the one he watched catch air. “Learning curve steep enough for you?” His tone was harsh, partially to get himself to focus.

“I’ll get used to it,” she said, and he felt her breath on the back of his neck. Levi gripped the hitch tighter.

Katrine continued to shoot her grapples forward and barrel them down the path. The cold air whipped in his face and he squinted at the trees, a blur of green and brown. Thankfully the snow was melting, so there wouldn't be icy patches to send them to an early death. She seemed to have found a rhythm, but her hand was still on his shoulder and he could feel her fingernails digging into him. Levi turned to berate her for it but the words died in his mouth when he saw the utterly demented grin on her face, like she was having the time of her life.

“The fuck is that look on your face supposed to mean?” he asked, horrified. This did not bode well for his safety.

Her eyes darted down to him but the grin didn’t falter. “They’re not gonna eat me today,” she said. “And if I get you back safely they’re never making me do chores again.”

Levi looked back at the road and thought there were a thousand better ways to die in the Underground than like this. He tried not to let himself be hypnotized by the trees rushing past, but the road was relatively straight and he hadn’t needed to use the hitch much for steering. Dread was building in his stomach, though, because he noticed the steep gorge threatening them behind the trees. The sharp curve in the road must be close and barring Titans, that was the deadliest part of the plan. “That bend is coming up,” he said.

“Yeah,” Katrine replied. “If I hit one tree with both grapples then we’ll make an arc.”

_ At least she has a plan for that _ , he thought bitterly.

Suddenly the wheels lurched to the side and Levi’s entire body tensed; his hands clamped down hard on the wood. Though the snow was melting they must have hit an unseen icy patch, something he shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss. Katrine had just shot her grapples to the next set of trees but now that they were careening sideways, it was impossible to reset them and it was inevitable they were going to tumble into the ravine below.

Levi bolted to his feet, knocking Katrine backwards, and shot his grapples towards the thickest tree opposite the edge while bracing himself against the front of the cart. Resisting the pull of the cables, he maneuvered the cart to swing in an arc around the bend, just barely grazing the trees on the other side. He copied her method of grappling to a tree on each side of the road and finally they were moving straight again, unharmed except for a deep scratch in the side of the wagon.

Katrine sat up, dazed, but laughed. “See? You’re a natural!”

His knuckles were white from gripping the cart. “If this doesn’t kill you then I will.”

“As long as you don’t ruin my face.” She resumed her position behind him and shot her grapples to the next set of trees, like nothing had ever happened. Levi sat back down and bit his tongue. It was like she knew about his guilt and was taunting him. He’d have to wait until he was on solid ground and not hurtling through the air to throttle her.

Soon a mass of gray appeared on the horizon and Levi knew it was the wall, that they’d made it to Krolva on her half-baked plan, and though part of him was relieved the other was anticipating her gloating. “There’s no good way to stop this before the wall,” he said, imagining their mangled bodies slammed against the stone. “We should jump out beforehand.”

“Good idea,” she said. “Don’t break any more of my fingers.”

“I’ll break all of them if you keep that up.”

The wall was growing larger by the second and the break in the forest was quickly approaching. “Soon,” Levi said, perching his good foot on the edge of the wagon. “Jump once we’re past the trees.” Katrine did the same on the other side.

Moments later they reached the grassy field outside the wall leading to the closed gate and Levi pressed his weight into his thigh. “Now!” he shouted and leaped out. He dove into the grass and rolled to a stop, and then watched the cart slam into the wall and shatter into a mess of splinters. Taking a deep breath to steady his pounding heart, he assessed his body. All his limbs were there, still attached, and his ankle wasn’t damaged any further.

Katrine stood and wiped the dust off her hands and despite her torn, blood-stained pants and the scratches on her face she seemed unbothered, while Levi was acutely aware of the sweat on his forehead and the dirt under his fingernails. She didn’t have the same filth on him that never washed away no matter how hard he scrubbed, though they’d been born in the same garbage. Instead it was like she brushed off that place with a flick of her wrist, spotless and victorious. He then realized that ever since he’d left the Underground he’d stopped looking for that cat, glancing around alleyways and trash piles though it was certainly long dead. Every other orange cat was the wrong shade, the color of rotten fruit.

She cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey,  _ Er- _ win!” she bellowed at the wall. 

Levi flinched. Thinking he could hear birds flapping away in fear, he sprung to his feet and snapped his head towards the forest, anticipating danger. “Shut the hell up, Katrine!” 

“Clean your own goddamn stables!” There was a mocking cadence to her voice.

“You fucking moron, there’s Titans!” He shook her shoulders but she just cackled.

Someone appeared at the top of the wall, thankfully not Erwin, and Levi thought he’d never been so grateful to see a Garrison soldier in all his life.

* * *

Katrine found it preposterous, completely absurd, that they still made her wash dishes and prepare equipment with a broken finger when she’d delivered Levi back to safety mostly unharmed. They should have bowed at her feet and given her whatever she demanded. Instead, she had to hide in the forgotten closet at the back of the compound, her book on the mechanisms of coal power illuminated by one paltry candle, because the rescuer of Humanity’s Greatest still had to run laps.

Right when she’d learned why canaries were used in mines, the door swung open and it was Levi, face obscured by a kerchief and clutching a broom but in a way that was no longer menacing. Inexplicably he had not used his broken ankle as an excuse to stop cleaning.

“You like sitting in filth? These stupid Krolvans can barely wipe their own asses,” he said.

“Love it.” If it was anyone else she would have been annoyed, but this wasn’t that bad. Of course it wasn’t like she wanted his company, but he didn’t set her teeth on edge anymore like the other men in the Scouts. Besides, he was fun to goad.

He looked at her with narrowed eyes, but he didn’t appear angry. She thought there might be a hint of curiosity behind them.

“Why bother reading a book on coal? You’d make a terrible miner.”

She shrugged. “Just wanted to know.”

He shook his head like she was hopeless, but closed the door and left.

Katrine knew now not to be afraid of Levi, not that she had been before, but because he’d had multiple opportunities to harm her, to take something from her, and chose to leave her alone. Even though he knew where she came from, a little piece of her past she preferred to keep hidden, she didn’t feel exposed anymore. Instead it was like they shared something no one else had, or would think to go looking for.

Also, now that she’d saved him, he owed her. She was untouchable.


	8. Chapter 8

_ Year 850 _

The night air was abnormally frigid and Katrine rubbed her arms in a futile effort to stop her shivering on the rooftop of the inn. Levi stood at the edge, evidently impervious to the cold, determining the best way to approach the bell tower. She was stupid and told him about Josephine and then kept going and talked about about Cecily too, and here she was feeling overexposed like a raw wound. Thankfully the moon was invisible and many of the streetlamps hadn’t been repaired yet, so the cathedral was shrouded in darkness. Even so she stared at the empty streets below because she didn’t want to look at his face.

“Drop down to the western roof, then move up the tower,” Levi said, pointing, and then jumped off without waiting for her answer. Katrine swung off too, the usual jump in her stomach particularly strong, and followed him onto the roof and then up the cathedral spine. At the top was a belfry with a large bell, a deep brass that was blinding in the sunlight but now a dull gray. She reached out and tapped her nails on it to hear the little ring, knowing that Levi was probably shooting her a glare in the darkness. “Drop your gear,” he said. “Here.”

The cramped wooden stairwell descended into darkness, but at least there were steps this time. She trailed after him, steadying herself against the cold stone walls, for what felt like ages until they reached a tiny landing with a single wooden door. Weak light eked out from the crack while the stairwell continued into the shadows. Levi crouched at the door and listened for a moment, and then pressed down lightly on the handle. It didn’t move.

“Dammit,” Katrine hissed through her teeth.

Levi withdrew a thin metallic pick from his boot. “This is nothing,” he said, and jammed it into the lock. In less than a minute the door popped open and Katrine couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Weren’t you opposed to this?” she asked. He didn’t respond and pushed the door open.

This office was smaller but more sumptuous than the previous, with an elaborately carved desk and thick velvet drapes ornamenting the single window. There were dozens of shiny trinkets begging to be taken. However, Katrine was enthralled by the strange paintings on the walls; though hung in thick gold frames, they weren’t like the portraits in the cathedral but instead depicted bizarre scenes and demonic-looking creatures. She stopped at one and made out a gangly furry creature stepping over a copse of trees. Unsettled, she returned to Levi, who was poking around the desk drawers. “Find anything?” 

“No. Don’t rush me.” He opened a drawer and after inspecting the bottom, tore off a sheet of paper taped to the wood. Katrine knelt next to him as he unfolded it. It was a letter, addressed to Brother Marius, and once she made it halfway through the girlish script she cupped a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles because it was a very descriptive, and explicit, love letter.

“These nuns get up to some  _ shit! _ ”

Levi pinched the top of the letter and held it far away from his face. He frowned as if angry at it for wasting his time.

“She is a goddamn poet. I have to take this back,” Katrine said, reaching for it.

“No, you’re not.” Levi waved her hand away and folded the letter.

“Oh,  _ you’re  _ gonna keep it, since you’re horny for nuns?”

He slammed it back to the bottom of the drawer harder than necessary. “ _ No, _ you immature shit.”

Katrine raised her hands. “I’m not judging-”

Levi suddenly clamped his hand across her mouth and before she could wrench him off and rebuke him for possibly smudging her lipstick, he raised his head and stared intently at the door. Then she heard the footsteps.  _ How the hell is this happening twice? Do they never leave? _

“Curtains,” he whispered, closing the drawer, and slipped behind the dark red fabric. Katrine followed, heart pounding, and dug her nails into her palm when she brushed his arm and felt the heat of his hand against her thigh. She looked down at her feet, making sure her toes weren’t poking out, and prayed whoever entered wouldn’t notice them.

Footsteps echoed inside, two people from the sound of it. “Why is the door open?” a male voice asked, concerned.

“Oh, I was just up here. Must’ve forgotten to lock the door,” another male voice said. Katrine eased her clenched fists.

“Marius, this is no time to be forgetful,” the first voice said. Her hand flew to her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud, since that was the recipient of the letter and the owner of particularly talented fingers. Levi shifted his eyes to her, clearly annoyed.

“That’s him!” she mouthed, pointing, but he pinched her arm and she stilled. His sense of humor was nonexistent, she remembered. 

“Looting is getting out of control,” the voice continued. “Last night was the fourth break-in this month and they somehow got into Father Anthony’s office.”

“I’m sure it was by mistake. I searched the entire room and the only thing I found missing was an ashtray,” Marius said. Katrine pressed her lips into a thin line and shrank into herself, bracing against the weight of Levi’s glare. She purposely turned her head away and stared at the sliver of a painting visible from her position.

“Have you discussed the predicament of Nick with Father Lucian yet?”

“Yes. He agrees that it was presumptuous to travel to Ehrmich without requesting permission,” Marius said.

The other man tutted. “If he really believes that the Survey Corps has his best interests in mind, he must be drinking again.”

“Shameful,” Marius agreed. “I’ve already sent word to Major Sannes as Father Lucian requested.”

“Might not be necessary. Evidently the Scouts commander is in a coma.”

Levi tensed beside her, strong enough for her to feel his nervous energy, and her eyes darted to his face. He stared intently ahead, as if he could see through the curtain and into the faces of the men, and was holding himself back from ambushing them and demanding answers. Katrine didn’t care much about what happened to Erwin, but held down the panic swirling in her gut when she thought of Mila, Sara, and Elisabeth. She’d make sure Erwin stayed in a coma if anything happened to them.

“That’s what happens when you resist the natural order,” Marius said.

“Well said. Now where was that report on Edelweiss’s accounts you prepared? I’m nearly certain the nuns are overspending on their embroidery thread,” the other man said.

“Sister Agnes claims they haven’t gone over budget, but she was never good with sums.”

“Most women aren’t.” The two snickered. Katrine rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fly out her head. 

“Thank you for your hard work, Marius. But remember to lock the door when you leave this time,” the other priest said, and Katrine heard his footsteps move to the door and recede down the steps. Marius made no sound that hinted he was leaving; instead, he moved to the desk and opened one of the drawers. Her heart sank, anticipating standing motionless behind the curtain for hours, but thankfully Marius shut the drawer and his footsteps also faded away. Katrine stepped to the side, intending to move out from the curtain, but Levi snatched her wrist and dragged her back.

“Wait,” he whispered. “They might come back.”

“So we’re gonna stand here until the sun comes up?” 

“Don’t be stupid.”

Katrine pursed her lips and turned back to look at the painting she’d noticed before. It was mostly blue, a lighter shade at the top darkening to navy, with a strip of gold at the bottom. She thought she could see a line of black, but wasn’t sure.

“We’re leaving tonight,” Levi said.

“But we haven’t found anything!”

“No one to blame but yourself. You taking that ashtray made them skittish.”

“It was brilliant,” she declared. “They thought it was just a robber.”

“And I’m sure it was on purpose,” he said in that awful deadpan that made her want to punch him. Instead she remained motionless and studied the painting, counting the seconds until Levi determined it was safe to move. She got to ninety when he slipped out, and she moved closer to inspect the picture. The darker blue appeared to be water while the lighter half was assumedly sky. There were people in the water, dressed in browns and grays, walking toward somewhere unseen. At the bottom in the gold bar there were two lines of black text; one was a line of the same symbols she’d seen in the letter. The other simply said  _ they marched across the seas _ . 

Katrine narrowed her eyes. Who moved? From where? And where was this sea? She’d heard about seas before, vast bodies of water that stretched on forever, but never read anything that confirmed their existence. She then noticed the number five at the bottom left corner. Did that mean something? Was this one of a series?

“Give me the letter,” she said, holding out her hand without taking her eyes off the painting. Examining it again, her suspicions were confirmed - the symbol with two triangles appeared four times, once side by side, and there were three that appeared in sequence that must have been “the.” She knew before Levi even slapped the letter in her hand that this was an answer to the code. “See, the symbols repeat here and the letters do the same. This is part of the key,” she said, excitement leaking into her voice.

“Are you sure?” He didn’t sound doubtful, but Katrine still bristled.

“Are you blind? They’re the same. Look,” she said, tapping a symbol in the letter that appeared on the painting. He leaned forward to see where she was pointing, a line appearing between his brows.

“Hmm. Looks like you found something, then.” His eyes darted back to her. “We need to go.”

Katrine folded the letter and tucked it in her jacket, waiting for Levi to circle around the desk to the door. Before she followed him, she pulled open the drawer and felt the bottom for the letter to Marius. It was gone. “Asshole,” she muttered.

* * *

They galloped as fast as they could to Ehrmich, and then learned the Scouts had gathered in Trost, so when Katrine and Levi found the mob of exhausted soldiers gathered outside the Survey Corps’ compound, she had not slept for a day and could barely sit upright. However, she frantically scanned the crowd for her squad members, desperate to find Mila’s dark head towering over the rest, and when she found her, Katrine almost cried out in relief. She leaped off her horse and sprinted towards her.

“Mila!” Katrine rushed into her, clutching her tightly.

“Katrine! Oh, I’m so glad you’re back.” Mila returned her embrace. “It was bad, it was awful,” she said, voice choked.

“You’re not hurt?” Katrine searched her for cuts and bruises, but Mila shook her head. 

“Sara, Katrine’s here,” Mila said, pulling Sara away from a conversation with a handsome soldier. She seemed unfazed. 

“How was  _ he _ ?” Sara whispered conspiratorially. 

Katrine shook her head. “Where’s Elisabeth?” She was unsure of how Elisabeth would react to Erwin’s predicament.

Sara and Mila exchanged a glance, and Sara tilted her head away from the crowd. “Follow me.”

Katrine trailed them through an alleyway into an empty street. “She’s not with Erwin?”

“She didn’t want to see it,” Mila said quietly. “It’s pretty gruesome.”

They were silent as they walked down the street to another alleyway, where Elisabeth sat on an empty crate in the shadows, face pale but stoic. She bounced her knee ceaselessly, like if she stopped she might explode, and stared at the ground, waiting for it to swallow her. Though she must have seen them, she made no acknowledgement.

Elisabeth, Katrine knew, did not want assurances that everything was going to be fine, that Erwin was going to wake up soon and return to business as usual. Nobody knew if that was true, and she was not going to lie. Katrine wasn’t even sure if Elisabeth necessarily wanted her older brother to open his eyes. But if he didn’t, then Elisabeth’s entire purpose for being in the Scouts was gone, and then what would she do? Katrine understood the fear of uselessness, of losing her purpose, and she was going to force Elisabeth to know that she was there, even if Elisabeth had never liked her and didn’t want her comfort.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and wrapped her arms around Elisabeth, refusing to budge when she tried to push her away. Elisabeth struggled and attempted to free herself, but Katrine planted her feet and squeezed her harder until she went limp and Katrine felt her hot tears against her shirt.

“I was supposed to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid again,” Elisabeth muttered.

“Everything he does is stupid,” Katrine said.

Elisabeth exhaled sharply, turning her face away to wipe her tears, and Katrine released her. “Leave me alone, I’ll be okay,” she said shakily after a moment, but there was no spite in her voice. She’d stopped bouncing her knee.

Katrine nodded. “Find me if you need to complain.” She motioned to Sara and Mila, and they walked back to the main road.

Sara grabbed Katrine’s arm, obviously curious. “But really, how was it?” 

“It was fine.” Katrine kept her voice neutral and brushed her away.

Mila threw up her hands. “Fine? That’s all you’re gonna say?” 

“The really interesting thing is what these Cult priests are up to,” Katrine said, trying to deter them.

Sara shrugged. “Who cares about them?” Mila nodded in agreement.

Katrine groaned. It had been a mistake to tell them anything. “It was very boring, and all he did was whine about the weather. Now I have to go crack a code, which I’m sure you don’t care about.” She nodded back towards the alleyway. “Keep an eye on her.”

“I want more details later!” Mila demanded. Katrine waved a hand back at them, already running towards the compound.

She marched into her room and ripped off her boots, tossing them away, and pushed her bag and the other pairs of shoes littering the floor into a corner. Now there was only a blank wall in front of her. Perfect. She yanked open the single drawer in her tiny desk and grabbed her thickest black pen, and then wrote each symbol of the code on the wall with enough space between each. Then, over each symbol that appeared in the painting, she wrote the corresponding letter. Eleven letters, three of them vowels. Not bad.

Throwing herself on the floor and extending one leg, Katrine spread out the pages of her copy of the letter. Carefully she wrote the letters she already knew above the symbols, and then assessed the sentences. She already knew “the,” “they” and “that,” which would be helpful, and she had three of the letters of “Titan.” She was confident in her ability to solve it, but had no idea how long it would take.

Katrine stared at the wall, and then at the papers, and tested different combinations in her mind until her eyes were dry and the sun was setting outside her window. Then she rushed down the hallway into the kitchen and made herself two cups of tea, diluted with the last of the milk that she knew someone would whine at her for using. After walking as quickly as she could back to her room without splashing herself, Katrine downed them both in quick succession to keep herself focused.

Then she was at it again, candles lit, puzzling over the sequence of symbols that appeared over and over again on the first few pages but had no corresponding letters. It was entirely possible that she was beginning to hallucinate the pattern since it had been two days without a proper rest, but her muscles were tense and Katrine knew she couldn’t sleep until she had made sufficient progress. Instead she stumbled back down to the kitchen for two more cups of tea, this time bitter and watery, and set the empty mugs beside the first two.

There was more written on the wall, but most of her guesses had little question marks beside them, and she hadn’t found anything that looked like it spelled “Titan.” Katrine took a slow breath, placing a cold palm on her forehead, and felt the sturdy floor beneath her feet. Right as she closed her eyes and felt the sting of tears, only because her eyes were dry and she had partly tamped down the frustration growing in her stomach, her door creaked open and she heard someone entering. She kept her eyes closed.

“Heard you- Woah, what is all this?” It was Hange, and Katrine opened her eyes, relieved.

“The Cult’s secret code. And I’m gonna crack it.” Katrine turned to Hange with a sure grin that was partially to encourage herself, but it faltered when she saw Hange’s swollen, red face. “You look awful. What happened?”

“Steam, from the Colossal Titan. It was  _ amazing _ , all that power, boiling me alive-”

“And you’re not concerned it ruined your face?” Katrine winced.

“Ah, I’m sure it’s fine. What’re you still doing up?”

“I should be asking you that, you should be resting.”

“I’ve been sleeping for hours and already wasted too much time!” Hange tugged at her pajamas. “Three more 104th cadets are intelligent Titans! I need to organize for the rest of them to be tested. Who knows how many more they’ll be!”

“I’ll help with that, it’ll be hilarious,” Katrine said.

“That’s why I’m here! Also, one of them returned to his home village and claims he saw a Titan that looks just like his mother. It apparently was able to communicate with him, too. Not much, just mumbling, but it sounded like ‘welcome.’”

“Are you sure he’s not lying? What if he can turn into a Titan too, and this is all some elaborate plot?”

“Worth the risk. A Titan replicating human language? I need to hear it for myself.” Hange adjusted her glasses. “Tell me if I sound crazy, but if a human could turn into a Titan and back again, then isn’t it possible someone could turn into a Titan permanently?” 

Katrine considered the theory. Certainly Titans resembled humans in many ways, but they just destroyed and devoured mindlessly. She’d never seen anything that looked like intelligence or depth in their eyes before she slashed them. But, Hange didn’t sound crazy. She sounded like she was onto something. “I can see how this kid could help. Just don’t let him eat you,” she said.

Hange smiled. “I’ll try. So, what’s this you’re writing?”

Katrine explained how she and Levi had found the Cult’s letter, and then where she’d discovered part of the key. Hange raised her eyebrows when Katrine described the strange painting depicting people walking across the sea.

“Are you sure they’re people? What if they’re really Titans?” Hange asked.

“They looked like regular people, not Titans. They had clothes on.”

“But, people can’t just walk through lakes. If seas are supposed to be so much bigger, then that’s impossible.”

Katrine tapped a finger against her chin and was silent for a moment. Hange was right.

“Probably a good idea for you to figure out if they say ‘Titans,’” Hange said, pointing at the wall.

Katrine slapped a hand against her forehead. “Really? Shit, Hange, this whole time I was looking for ‘tits.’” 

Hange snickered, but then brought both hands to her cheeks. “Ow, ow! I can feel my face cracking!” She moaned and fanned at her face. Katrine thought she looked so ridiculous that she couldn't help giggling too, and soon the two of them lay sprawled on the floor, cackling. She laughed so hard she couldn’t breathe and felt like she was drunk.

“You look like a tomato!” Katrine said, wiping tears away from her eyes. “I’ll let you borrow my lipstick, then no one could keep their hands off you!”

“You have such dark circles under your eyes that you look like a raccoon!” That sent them howling again, loud enough that they didn’t hear the footsteps outside her door.

“Hange, get the hell back to bed-” Levi stepped inside, voice harsh and demanding as usual, but then he faltered. Katrine watched him take in the letters and symbols covering the wall, his disbelief turning into horror and then indignant wrath. She bit down hard on her tongue, stifling her giggles, because she was dying to hear what was going to come barreling out of his mouth. She hadn’t even intended this to happen, but it must have been fate, that lucky doll poking out of her bag, because this was the only way she was ever a thorn in his side.

“What the fuck is this?” Every word was a bullet. 

“Hey, Hange,  _ Hange _ ,” Katrine said, elbowing her. “Looks like he saw the writing on the wall!” They collapsed into snickers, and she imagined that Levi was probably glaring at them.

“You finished yet?” His question seemed more like a rebuke.

“Don’t rush me,” Katrine said, clearing her throat. “Genius takes time.”

“At the pace your genius is going, this’ll take a year.”

“Lay off, Levi, you’d take a decade,” Hange said, still smiling. She fanned at her face.

“How do you know that, four-eyes? And your priest’s a dead man. Cult’s suspicious.” He gave her the same critical stare.

“What?” Hange asked, hands still and serious again.

“Cult thinks he talked too much.”

“But he-” Hange frowned. Levi folded his arms. She stood and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Is he still in Stohess?”

He shrugged. “Assume so.”

Hange darted past Levi and out the door without another word. He watched her run down the hall and then turned back to Katrine. Normally his expression ranged from bored to irritated, but this was neither. Still seated on the floor, Katrine brought her knees to her chest. It was a pointed look, one that made her feel exposed, but she had no idea what it meant. Then he turned on his heel and was gone just as quickly as Hange.

She swallowed, but then shook her head. Obviously since she was teasing out this code, she was seeing hidden meaning in everything.  _ Overthinking things _ , she decided, and returned to her work.

* * *

Blinking away the bright morning sunlight, Katrine flicked her forehead, annoyed. She’d nodded off. There were now more letters above the symbols, but also more question marks. Eight empty mugs stained with lipstick marked her progress.

They were tricky, these priests. There was no pattern that suggested a series of symbols that said “Titan,” or the names of the three walls. Interestingly there was the regularly repeated string of symbols in the first few pages, but had no known letters. It always preceded four to seven other symbols, but the ones with letters she knew seemed unfamiliar and didn’t lend themselves to easy guesses.

Katrine slapped her thighs to wake herself up and, deciding to take a new approach, dragged herself down the hallway for another two cups of tea. Her exhaustion seemed to amplify the bitter taste and she held her nose to drink it. Only slightly rejuvenated, she analyzed the symbols she already knew. Were there any clues in the shapes themselves? If she tilted her head to the left the “A” symbol maybe did look like the letter “A.” She thought about that, and all the other associations she could make with the symbols no matter how tenuous, until the sky was dark and she found herself upside down with her heels against the wall, draped over the edge of her bed pushed in the corner opposite the writing. She had an “M,” and that flipped was a “W,” so would the Cult do the same? Or was that too obvious?

“Don’t do that, you’ll get the wall dirty.”

Katrine blinked, eyes dry, and saw Levi standing in the doorway watching her with a wary expression. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there. “It’s my room, I can do what I want.”

He assessed her work and said nothing. Katrine wondered if he was going to crack and start wiping it away with his sleeve, but instead he surprised her by sitting on the bed, his weight causing her to shift closer. She pressed her feet into the wall to keep herself from sliding into him.

“You think being upside down is going to help your genius?” he asked, peering down at her.

“New perspectives always help.” She raised a hand to her neck to touch her hair but realized it was dangling on the floor, so instead she folded her arms and set her gaze at the wall until she couldn’t feel his eyes on her. Then she looked up at him, at his jawline, for the little scar she knew was there but too faint to see. He still had the bandage on the cut on his neck. “Erwin still out?”

“Yeah. Sure taking his sweet time.” Levi’s tone revealed nothing but Katrine knew he was anxious. She looked back at the wall, where every promising idea seemed like nothing.

“Do you need anything?” he asked.

Suddenly her heart felt very light. “Um. No,” she said, furious at herself for not thinking of some absurd quest.

He nodded and stood, and with one last glance at the wall, he was gone. There was no longer a depression in the bed, no hint that he’d even been there, but the buzzing in her chest remained and she stared at the ceiling instead of the letters, dazed. She was energized, jolted awake, but thoughts of the symbols and words scattered. There was no way she could focus again. Unmoving and never taking her eyes off the little clock on her desk, Katrine waited fifteen minutes and then tugged on her boots and stormed outside. 

Twenty minutes later Katrine was past the wall and at the clearing with the wooden stage Erwin liked to use for recruitment speeches since it was big enough to hold all the cadets. No one ever came by at night, though, and it was hidden away by enough tall trees that no one could find her. She could see the floor and her hands in front of her, though, and that was all that mattered.

Katrine peeled off her boots and her socks and grimaced at the sight of her feet. Years of dancing had left them calloused and rough. It was ironic, she thought, that everyone marveled over ballerinas’ toes, but underneath the satin their feet were actually hideous. It was true about a lot of pretty things.

There was no real point to dancing, she knew. Even if she wanted to go back to the Mitras Company, which she would rather cut off her feet than do, they wouldn’t want her back. It was impossible to return from eight years gone and compete with girls half her age hungry for the spotlight. She was never going to be as streamlined and pretty as she used to be, certainly not with the little scar on her temple that was easily hidden with makeup but not one anyone wanted to see in stark daylight.

And yet she rose to the edges of her toes and lifted her arms towards the night sky, because it was the only way her mind quieted. She was no longer herself, but something light and ethereal, a string of movements and leaps. She also wanted to be perfect, needed to make herself perfect, something she still wanted more than anything even though it was impossible. Some logic could be ignored. Besides, she told herself, it was good to have a skill that could make money in the new places she’d find one day. Maybe they’d want to see her dance and paint on her smile.

She stretched her legs to warm herself up and then slid into a center split, relishing the familiar twinge in her muscles, and sighed, resting on her elbows. Slowly she inched her fingers forward, and then the rest of her torso, so that her stomach was flat against the stage. Classes often began this way with girls splattered on the ground, complaining about their sore muscles. Little pancakes, they called themselves, legs extended and pressed against the cold wooden floor.

There was a snap in the woods to her left, and Katrine immediately raised her head. It was probably an animal, but it sounded too heavy. Then there was a gasp, definitely human, and Katrine pressed her hips down harder, irritated.

“Are you sure this is the right way?” a female voice asked.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” a male voice answered.

Katrine lowered her head and gently smacked her forehead against the floor. She did not want to be the unwilling audience to a couple’s rendezvous. Three dark forms materialized in the trees, and then walked out into the clearing.

“Here, I see it...Oh! Captain- I mean, Katrine,” Jean said.

“Johan,” Katrine said flatly.

“I, well, we, had something to ask you,” he said. He seemed to have given up on correcting her.

“Did you follow me?” She scowled at them, disgusted.

“Yeah,” the brunette girl admitted. Katrine recognized her from that first meeting in Ehrmich, which she realized was not long ago, even though it felt like months. The other was a short man with close-cropped hair who stared at her legs and looked both amazed and intimidated. Katrine decided she didn’t like him.

“ _ Sasha _ .” Jean threw her an exasperated look. He turned back to Katrine with a more apologetic expression. “We wanted to ask for your help. Training, I mean. You’re so efficient with ODM.”

“You trying to show off for Mikasa, Jean-bo?” The shorter man had a smarmy grin.

“Shut up,” Jean snapped, but his face betrayed him. “You remember almost dying three days ago? I’m going to get better and you should, too.” At that his companions were finally silent.

Katrine considered the trio before her. Initially she’d wanted to be alone and let the night air clear her head, but this would make for a much better distraction. And it would be selfish to reject someone asking for help. Besides, Jean had been very cooperative in Ehrmich, and she was curious about this Mikasa, who sounded like unfortunate news for Mila. “Okay, okay, Johan, who’re your friends here?” 

“Connie,” the other man said, jumping forward. “Connie Springer. And that’s Sasha Braus.”

“She can talk for herself, Conrad,” Katrine said.

“Connie,” he corrected. “Somebody told me you were a dancer, in Mitras.”

Katrine shook her head sadly. “Nope. Sorry.” She pointed and flexed her right foot. “This somebody’s playing a mean trick on you.” 

Sasha looked confused. “A lot of people said that.”

“Well, it must be a group effort.”

They exchanged puzzled glances. Katrine stifled a yawn and rested her chin on her palm. “How do you all know each other?”

“104th,” Jean said, right as Connie cut him off and exclaimed, “The new Levi squad!”

Suddenly she was wide awake. “Really, now?” she asked, cocking her head. This was certainly a distraction.

“Yup. Best of the best,” Connie said with a grin. Sasha and Jean looked nervous.

“Good enough for Captain Levi,  _ wow _ ,” Katrine said with false awe. “Alright, Johan, can you promise me that neither you nor your friends here are actually Titan shifters? I can’t trust anyone from your corps.”

“No!” Jean said, offended.

“I don’t know why I bothered asking, of course you’d say that. Anyway, if you want my help you have to pass the test first,” she said.

“What test?” Connie asked.

“Run five laps and let me think about it.” 

The three set off running, while Katrine hoisted herself to her feet. If she wanted to do this right, she’d have a barre and mirrors and a cane like Mr. Kaiser to smack a wandering leg. But she had none of these, and she didn’t want to beat the life out of them just yet. 

Jean, Sasha, and Connie returned to the center of the dirt plot and Katrine hopped off the stage. She assessed them with the sternest expression she could muster. “Alright, we’re starting with pliés,” she said, standing straight with her feet facing outwards, heels touching. “Copy me. Heels together, bend your knees into a diamond. I want thirty clean ones.” She demonstrated, sinking and rising, and held her bent arms in front of her.

“A what?” Sasha asked.

“Plié. A basic step but one of the most important. All your leaps start and end with one and it also starts most of your turns.”

“But how does this help with ODM?”

“Good question, Sasha. This helps open your hips and condition your muscles so you’re less likely to injure yourself when you land.”

Sasha smiled while Connie threw her a jealous look.

“Johan, knees over your toes. You look like you’re trying to break your legs instead of using them as springs,” Katrine said, appalled at Jean’s poor form.

“What does plié even mean?” Jean asked, his knees creaking.

Katrine shrugged. “Dunno.” All the ballet terms were strange flowery words that she never heard outside of the practice hall, but no one, not even Mr. Kaiser, knew where they came from. She always kept an eye out for them in the books she read, but found nothing.

“But if you’re a dancer how do you not know-”

“No back-talking your instructor. Ten more.” Katrine shook her head but nearly choked when she saw Connie’s atrocious attempt. “I don’t wanna see you on your toes! Glue those heels to the ground, Ronnie!” Connie dropped his heels but nearly toppled backwards, making her sigh. The only one with even halfway decent pliés was Sasha, who got a nod from Katrine. When they finished, shaking out their legs, she pounced on them again.

“I wouldn’t call these beautiful but I’m not working with much, am I? And these were just demis. Now we’re moving to grand pliés.” Katrine demonstrated the same movement as the first plié but sank deeper, knees fully bent, heels off the ground and on the balls of her feet. “Now I want you on your toes, Conroy.”

“Connie!” He was turning red, obviously frustrated.

Katrine scratched her head. “Wasn’t that what I said? Thirty clean ones.”

“This was a terrible idea,” Connie grumbled.

“Quiet, Constance, a good dancer keeps her mouth shut and her hips pliant,” Katrine said, repeating what Mr. Kaiser had told her so many times she’d lost count.

“But I’m not a dancer-”

“Did I ask for excuses? Ten more from you.”

Connie scowled. “I told you asking Levi would be better,” he muttered to Jean.

“Oh, I’m not good enough for you, Constantine? Make that twenty.” Connie finally pressed his lips together and continued moving up and down.

“Levi isn’t human,” Jean said, breath labored. “Better to ask a normal person.”

Katrine’s eye twitched; even though Jean was right, she hated being compared, and she searched for something to correct. “ _ Johan _ ! Smooth! Continuous! Not choppy!” She fought to keep herself from giggling. Mr. Kaiser never looked like he was enjoying himself when he screamed at them, but maybe she’d been wrong all this time.

They finally completed the exercise, hands on their knees and panting, and Katrine shook her head at their sorry state. “Time for leg lifts.” She pointed her right toe and raised her leg, extending her hands to her sides. “Keep it up for a minute.”

“Easy!” Sasha said, smiling.

“Don’t get too confident,” Katrine said, knowing their thighs would be quivering after thirty seconds. As expected they all started grimacing and their legs slowly sank to the ground. She smirked and slid into a right split. “So, how did you all end up with the misfortune of being in Levi’s new squad?” 

“Erm, I don’t really know,” Jean said, wobbling on one foot.

“Because we’re amazing, duh! We’re in the big leagues now, Jean. Just you wait, I’m gonna have my own squad in a year.” Connie lifted his chin. 

“If you can’t handle some pliés, Connie, that’s never happening,” Katrine said. He looked elated, and she wrinkled her nose. Too easy.

“Connie can barely get himself on his horse,” Sasha said, giggling.

Connie slammed his foot down. “Not true, Taters. One day you’ll all be taking orders from me. Levi included.”

“You’re not scared of him, Connie?” Jean asked, smug. “If not, you're stupider than I thought.”

“Ah- Well,” he said, laughing awkwardly.

Sasha’s expression turned thoughtful. “Levi might be scary, but he’s not heartless.”

Jean nodded. “You know, one time I was trying to buy bread at Old Nan’s but I didn’t have enough on me, and right when she was starting to scream Levi popped up out of nowhere and spotted me,” he said. “I tried to thank him but he told me to get lost.”

“I think he’s lonely,” Sasha said. Katrine immediately looked up from the blade of grass she was picking at, and from the corner of her eye saw Jean and Connie turn to Sasha in surprise.

Connie snorted. “That’s impossible.”

“He seems too tired for someone who’s that strong. And he’s always staring off at something, but it’s not like he’s looking for anything.”

“I don’t think he has time to be lonely, Sasha,” Jean said.

“That doesn’t matter.” She lowered her leg.

Jean and Connie looked at each other with narrowed eyes but didn’t say anything. Katrine, suddenly cold, stared at the blade of grass in her hand. And an uncomfortable silence settled over them. “Switch legs,” she said, voice distant. They complied.

“When are you going to Ragako, Connie?” Jean asked.

“Tomorrow.” His voice was quieter than before.

_ That’s the kid Hange was talking about _ , Katrine realized, and felt a little sorry for him. He was obnoxious, but no one should have to go confirm or deny that their mother had become a Titan.

She led them through battements, arabesques, and different arm holds until their limbs were shaking and the sun peeked through the trees. The entire time Sasha’s words echoed through her head, though she knew that couldn’t be right. Levi had made clear that it wasn’t a good idea to be anywhere near him. Her eyelids grew even heavier. If he was lonely, he sure wanted to keep being lonely.

“When’re you gonna train us on ODM, Katrine?” Sasha was the only one who still looked enthusiastic. Connie and Jean could barely stand straight.

“Well, now that you’ve got some basics down we can assess later.” She didn’t want to commit.

Jean elbowed Connie. “Your basics sucked, man.”

Connie slapped him away. “You know what sucked, Johan? Your abra-esque. I am the  _ king  _ of abra-esques.”

“Arabes-” Katrine started to correct him but stopped, shocked, because that was the word. King. That four-letter word that kept repeating in the letter, before the other strange words she couldn’t figure out, because they must be names. “That’s it!” she gasped, clapping her hands.

“That’s what?” Jean asked, but she was already sprinting away.

“Later!” she shouted.

Katrine burst into her room, panting, and after consulting the pages, carved the new letters over their corresponding symbols on the wall. Then she flew down the letter, filling in the new words so quickly her wrist began to sting, and then reread her work. The gaps in the sentences shrank, recognizable words appeared, and she crossed out the question marks.

As light began to stream into her window, every symbol had a corresponding letter and the words were translated. She collapsed on the floor, elated, but so exhausted it felt like her muscles had disappeared and she could no longer stand. Grasping for the pages, she attempted to understand the sentences but her mind refused to register their meaning, and before she realized what was happening the pages slipped out of her fingers and she was asleep.

* * *

When Jean, Sasha, and Connie showed up for surprise morning training limping and moaning, Levi suspected something was amiss.

He wanted to start out his new squad on the right foot, because they were a group of troublemakers, so that meant training at the crack of dawn. Of course he was already up by then, and if he was ready to start the day, then shouldn’t they be as well?

But after their piss-poor laps and pathetic excuses for push-ups, Levi heard the three muttering to each other. 

“Why’d she keep getting my name wrong? It’s not hard,” Connie huffed.

Sasha sighed. “That’s not the point.”

Then he knew, and decided the first thing he was going to do when training was over was yell at Katrine. His tea ritual could wait.

Once the sun was up and all of them were heaving and whining, Levi stalked up the stairs, insults prepared, ready to berate her for wasting time tormenting his new subordinates when she had a much more important task. The curiosity of how she was coming along bit at him too, but he ignored that. Her door was cracked and he kicked it open. “The hell are you doing with my-”

Katrine was curled up on the floor, knees to her chest and arms shielding her face, surrounded by paper and candles and empty mugs. She didn’t stir. He turned to the wall and saw that each symbol had a corresponding letter carved into the wood, and he gave a low whistle.

Levi wasn’t surprised that she’d solved it, but that she’d done it so quickly. All he’d been useful for in Stohess was for picking a few locks and smacking some MPs upside the head, but what she did was incredible, something he didn’t think anyone else could do except maybe Erwin. He looked down at her, clad in a thin jacket, and was aware of the cold for the first time that morning. Her hair was unkempt and a few blonde strands rested over her forehead.

Shaking his head, Levi let himself be distracted by the mess. She’d left candles burning, which was asking for trouble, and she certainly didn’t need more than one mug. But then he looked back at her again and thought that it was wrong to see her asleep on the floor. People like them had already slept on floors enough. And, he knew that if she spent however many hours asleep there, she would complain about her stiff back for days. That was it.

Ignoring the voice in his head that demanded he not get involved, Levi crouched down next to her, aware that his hands might be dirty though he’d already washed them.

“Go away,” Katrine murmured, and he froze. He shifted to his back foot and the creak was deafening.

“Mom! I  _ said _ , go away.” His fingers relaxed, but only a bit, and he still held his breath. 

She was silent for a long moment. “No, he’s not,” she finally muttered, with more force. Levi didn’t know who this was, and hoped it wasn’t him, but also didn’t want it to be anyone else, either.

He quickly stood and blew out the candles, and then brought the mugs back to the kitchen, carefully avoiding the red stains. But instead of washing them like he intended he thought how pained she sounded, how cold she looked, and strode back to her room where she hadn’t moved at all.  _ What a stupid idea _ , he thought, and she still had her boots on. Those were definitely dirty. He could spend all day debating with himself until she actually woke up and asked him why he was standing there, and for that he did not have a good answer prepared.

Pursing his lips and shoving aside his concerns, Levi crouched down again and in one swift motion picked her up and deposited her on her unmade bed. She was lighter than he anticipated; she had an aggressive confidence that made her seem more substantial than she really was.

Katrine didn’t wake up, but she shifted her arms and Levi could then see her face. Her expression didn’t look peaceful, but troubled, like she was continuing to worry about whatever problem she should have left behind in her waking hours. She looked like she was thinking too hard, considering every possibility that could come her way and how best to fight it. It was too familiar, a fear he knew.

He suddenly felt awkward, like an intruder, and silently left.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank y’all for the nice comments!! They’re extra appreciated when I haven’t left my apartment in two weeks!

_ Year 847 _

Captain Silas, Katrine decided, was an idiot.

The man in charge of mapping, Silas was small and wiry with a perpetual cigarette hanging from his lips and a wizened face that made him look ancient, despite being only a few years older than she was. Hard-drinking and obdurate, his harsh tone made most people unquestioningly believe whatever bullshit came falling out of his mouth, usually about routes and the locations of deserted villages. Though correct often enough to keep his position, Katrine found him utterly incompetent. Why didn’t he listen to her suggestions when they were obviously more efficient? Besides, she was not entirely certain he knew the difference between right and left.

Luckily he’d led their small group to Uhr correctly, an empty village near the eastern edge of Wall Maria, one amongst many in an organized effort to rustle up clues about the whereabouts of the two Titans responsible for Shiganshina’s ruin. Erwin was obsessed with finding them, and his current theory surmised that they were hiding out near the abandoned districts along Wall Maria. Katrine didn’t buy it, but they were grasping at straws, and at least he had a theory. He never seemed disappointed when one didn’t pan out.

Uhr looked the same as all the other villages left deserted, but the residents had made the curious decision to paint all their houses the same shade of red. Yet another strange find to go on her list of things she’d never seen in Mitras, including a meadow of goldenrod and a pack of wolves. But it wasn’t somewhere new, some shining brilliant place, and that was beginning to eat at her.

“Charlotte!” Katrine hissed, pointing to a trail snaking away from the village. “There’s a coal mine a few kilometers south. It’s supposed to go a hundred meters down! Who knows what could be hiding in there? Let’s go see it.” She did not quite believe that coal and diamond mines were different things, and had great dreams of discovering a trove of sparkling gems.

Charlotte wrinkled her nose. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because those tunnels might lead somewhere interesting.” There was never a hint of it in any book or map, but maybe a way out was under her nose this whole time.

“Sure, like another goddamn forest?” She tossed her red ponytail over her shoulder, disinterested. “Count me out.”

“Fine. I’m going, though. There’s a shortcut that’ll get me to Marni Castle before you.”

Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Captain Silas will yell at you. And it’s dangerous to go alone.”

Katrine snorted. “He’s so hungover he won’t notice. And I’ll be fine.” She refused to let fear of Titans prevent her from doing what she’d left Mitras to do. And besides, in such a small group, her chances of survival were only slightly better than on her own.

“If you say so,” Charlotte said. “No stopping you anyway. But I’m not covering for you.”

“Won’t need it.” Katrine eyed Silas, slouched and eyes shut against the afternoon sun, close to toppling off his horse. There were four others, new recruits that Katrine didn’t recognize, ones too scared of Titans and focused on themselves to notice if someone vanished. Even if they did, they were equally as scared of Silas to tell him.

“Time to go,” Silas shouted, much too loud. He twitched, surprised at the sound of his own voice, but galloped away without turning to see who followed.

“I’m off,” she said. “See you.”

Charlotte stuck out her tongue, but followed Silas. Katrine turned her horse and bounded down the trail. It was summer now and the leaves hung off the trees like glossy emeralds, covering the sky and shooting prisms of light onto her jacket. The air was swollen with noise: birds calling, insects buzzing, the wind in her ears and hooves beating the ground. For the first time since they’d set out from Karanes her shoulders eased and she could finally breathe without her ribs constricting.

If Katrine could stay in the sunlight forever she would, even if it burned her skin and sent sweat dripping down her back. Currently, the faraway place in her daydreams was sunny and hot and filled with the scent of spices. Maybe the people there would be kinder since they drank up the light all day. Though, a place that only rained could work too; where would they put all that water? Anywhere would do, anywhere without walls. Mitras and the districts surrounding it were only cages that did better at keeping people cloistered and stifled than protecting them from Titans.

When she reached the coursing river cutting a gorge into the forest, she knew from studying the maps to follow it to the wide beaten path and find the Schwarz Mine a few kilometers away. There was a bridge downstream that crossed it a little further past the mine, which was a shortcut to Marni Castle, their destination. Silas’s fear of water caused him to avoid it, though it would shave a few hours off their time.  _ Moron _ , she thought, rolling her eyes.

Urging her horse, Katrine sped down the well-worn road and burst through an opening in the trees to find a great chasm scarring the earth, barely managing to stop in time before tumbling off the edge. She surveyed the area, panting hard. This must be it; the canyon was filled with steel-gray rocks and abandoned carts, with a shadowy opening in the crag face must have been the mine’s entrance. Grinning, Katrine tied her horse to a tree and skidded down the slope.  _ I found it, they’re definitely hiding the way out down here, and I found it! _

The jagged hole of the opening was dark and smelled faintly metallic; the air was markedly colder and Katrine shivered. Sunlight only reached a few meters ahead, and beyond that was a solid wall of black. She lit a flare stick to see inside, and though the light was swallowed by shadows she pressed onwards, one hand sweeping the air in front of her. Katrine only made it a few steps forward until her hand scraped a pile of rocks that reached the top of the tunnel. She raised the flare to see what was blocking her path, but it only cast unnatural shadows against the cave wall. Puzzled, she lodged one foot into the stones to climb higher and was only met with more. The roof must have collapsed, she realized as she jumped down, and all hope of finding a tunnel to somewhere vanished, replaced with overwhelming dejection.  _ There are other mines _ , she reassured herself, but that did little to calm her anger. She kicked at a pebble and groaned, her frustration echoing back at her.

Returning to the sunlight, Katrine turned back to the entrance and scowled.  _ This was useless _ , she thought angrily, and wondered why she’d risked Silas’s wrath just to find a caved-in mine. She gripped the flare and hurled it into the darkness, but when she walked away to retrieve her horse there was a loud popping noise and the distinct scent of smoke. Katrine jumped, alarmed, and saw a tiny flame at the entrance where she’d thrown the flare.  _ Right _ , she remembered. Coal dust was highly flammable. That could have been much worse, and she shuddered.

Calming her racing heart, Katrine considered her options. There was no way she could remove all the boulders covering the tunnel, and there were no more entrances. Or, no obvious entrances. There could be one elsewhere, maybe beyond that hill of trees?

She raced up the slope to her horse, but just as she untied it there was a faint crash to the north. A flock of birds shot towards the sky, agitated and crowing. It could only be Titans, and that meant her time was cut short.

Hoisting herself up, Katrine tugged her reins and backtracked to the river, turning left to follow it to where the bridge was supposed to be. All she heard was the water torrenting below and the wind rushing past her; there were no more violent noises suggesting Titans. That was a good sign; with no foreseeable danger, she could just wait outside Marni Castle to slip back in with Silas’s group like she’d been there all along. If the recruits questioned her, she’d blame it on their lack of sleep and tell them to pay better attention next time.

She scanned the horizon, waiting for the bridge to appear at any moment, but yanked her horse back when she saw one wooden post jutting askew out the ground with nothing attached but a frayed rope. That and the few splintered boards hanging on the other side of the ravine were the only hints a bridge had ever been there, and the water churned ominously beneath her.

_ Shit _ , Katrine thought as she grit her teeth. This was bad. Now she’d have to double back to where she’d started, and then make it to Marni Castle. Even if she rode at breakneck speed, there was no way she’d get back before Silas’s group. Laps weren’t going to cover this; the higher-ups were going to murder her.  _ Shit, shit, shit! _

Katrine jabbed her toe into the horse’s flank and started back, preparing her excuse. Silas had a tendency to set off without checking to see who followed; it was plausible that she could have been off answering nature’s call and missed him. She could also claim that she lost her way trying to find a shortcut back, but that was less realistic. Now she regretted bragging to Sara and Charlotte that she could find her way anywhere while Silas would get lost up his own asshole.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and the sky turned a garish shade of orange, she arrived at the castle, heaving. In the yard, Miche appeared to be rebuking Silas, face stormy and jabbing an angry finger at his chest. Silas yelled back, flailing hysterically. There were scratches on his arms and stark red stains on his pants.

“They were  _ following  _ it, and that thing just pointed and smiled! Up in a goddamn tree!” Silas spoke so quickly he choked on his words.

“But it didn’t kill you?” Miche asked, his tone doubtful.

Turning at the sound of her horse, Silas jerked upright and lunged at Katrine faster than she’d ever seen him move. “Where the hell were you?!” he screeched, bloodshot eyes bulging, too red and puffy for just alcohol. He perched on his toes, ready to strangle her, so she stayed on her horse.

“Me? Where the hell did  _ you  _ go? I go relieve myself and when I get back you all vanished!” She tried to sound offended, hopefully believable. “I’m lucky I got back alive. Where’s Charlotte?”

“Dead! They’re all dead!”

The reins slipped out of her hands. “What?”

“Dead, smashed to pieces right in front of me! Blood everywhere, red as that Titan’s hair!” He pulled at his own hair, laughing mirthlessly, like he’d gone completely insane.

Dumbstruck, Katrine’s mouth dropped open and suddenly her fingers were icy. She’d only spoken to Charlotte hours ago, not even considering the possibility that this could happen, like an idiot. How did she  _ not  _ think of that? Horror overtook her shock.

“Casimir!” Miche strode towards them, fists clenched. His eyes, shaded by the prominent ridge of his brow, were black.

Katrine slid off her horse, retracing her steps in her mind, determining where she’d gone wrong. Did they stop at that village for too long? Could there have been any difference at all if she’d been with them? But how did Silas live, when everyone else was dead? Had he abandoned them, just to save himself? “How...are you here?” Her throat constricted and a bitter taste flooded her mouth.

A flush crept up Silas’s neck. “Someone needs to make it back alive! To relay the information!” Everything about him was red: his eyes, his face, those horrible gashes on his legs. An image of Charlotte, red hair loose and blood oozing out her neck, flashed across her eyes.

“But-”

“How did you not catch up?” Miche interrupted. His furious gaze darted between her and Silas.

“I got lost,” she said. The lie felt like iron in her throat, and her own voice sounded foreign.

“You? Lost?” Silas scoffed, appalled. “The arrogant little girl who thinks she knows maps better than I do?”

A weak flash of anger spurted in her gut, but it was swallowed by guilt. How could she accuse Silas of abandoning them when she’d done the same thing herself? If she’d been there, Charlotte might be alive, or at least she wouldn’t have died surrounded by strangers. And even those recruits whose names she’d never bothered to learn didn’t deserve to die steeped in hopeless despair. Katrine had promised she’d make sure Charlotte would live, and the words came out of her mouth; now she was not only a liar, but a selfish one at that.

“But I got lost,” she said again, an incantation, like repeating it over and over would make it true.

Miche towered over her, his glare boring into her skull, and Katrine couldn’t face him. She didn’t want to see his disbelief. Instead she stared at the ground and felt the questioning glances from other Scouts, turning her even colder.

“You. Stables. I want them spotless by morning.” His hand shot out to point at them and Katrine flinched, prepared for a slap, though nothing came but his furious scowl and the familiar fear crystallizing in her spine. “If you get lazy on this I’ll beat that contempt right out of you.” She didn’t doubt him.

Katrine straightened and saluted him, but it felt false even though she hadn’t meant it to, and started briskly for the stables. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Miche drag Silas into the castle. 

Stables were the kind of place Katrine purposely avoided, even taking longer routes to avoid, and only entered to retrieve her horse with her nose pinched. They smelled awful, and though she’d never admit it to anyone, the horses frightened her - they were huge and heavy and she tried not to jump out of her skin when one reared. But now she was standing in the middle of it, cavernously empty, racking her brain for where to start. Muck stalls? Polish the bridles? Her eyes stung and a shuddering gasp threatened to burst from her mouth. The horses eyed her, distrustful, as if they knew what she’d done.

This was going to take forever. Dread sank into her shoulders, causing her to slouch and stare at the dusty floor. She was tired, so tired, and just wanted to find somewhere to curl up and berate herself for being the most horrible, irresponsible person that had ever existed. But, she had to start. Worst first, she decided as she swiped at her eyes: mucking stalls. “Stop looking at me,” she hissed at a horse that gave her a sad, disappointed look, and led it outside.

Whoever last cleaned these stalls had done an especially lackluster job. She could barely see the floor through the clumpy straw bedding and there were suspicious stains on the walls she did not want to investigate. The odor was so strong it felt like a malevolent presence, one that could suffocate her and drag her corpse into the hay. Gripping her pitchfork tighter, Katrine briefly considered stabbing herself with it, claiming a horrible accident, but stopped. She could complete her penance. It was a small price to pay for Charlotte to die, much too small. Eyes watering and breath held, she jabbed the pitchfork into the soiled bedding and pressed down on it with her foot.

Once she finished that, the other tasks came easier, but only slightly. She beat out the blankets and got dust all over her, sending herself into a sneezing fit; climbed up into the corners to wipe them free of decades-old spiderwebs, yelping every time she saw a bug; and after cleaning the troughs, lugged buckets of fresh water to refill them. Eventually the stables looked much better, and probably smelled better too though she’d grown accustomed to the stench.

But Katrine needed more to do. She couldn’t stand still. When she stopped to rest or wipe the sweat from her forehead, that was when she saw them. Charlotte sat on the fresh bedding, considering her with a blank expression, but Katrine’s own voice echoed in her ears.  _ I’ll make sure you live, Charlotte. _ When she turned away she could see Engel standing by the bridles, certainly wondering why Katrine hadn’t used her abilities to keep the others safe. Even Larissa leaned on the doorframe, reminding Katrine that she hadn’t even tried to save her, claiming that it was impossible. She sighed; Silas was right. She certainly was arrogant and selfish.

Hands on her hips, Katrine surveyed the stables, wondering what to do next. The well-worn saddles could use to be wiped down, but how was she supposed to do that? She couldn’t just dunk them in water. Someone must have gone over this in training and she should have paid attention. They probably needed some kind of brush, but something softer than the ones to scour the troughs, and that meant venturing outside to find one. She tapped her lips and groaned when her fingers came away with a smudge of red; it was probably flaking and she was glad that there were no mirrors for her to see how ragged she looked.

Katrine darted to the main compound in search of the correct brush, praying that no one was there to see her. It was still dark outside but the edge of the horizon was beginning to lighten. This was too early for most to be awake, but she only had a few hours left. She almost wanted more, enough time for her to accept what she’d done, but that might never happen. And the sun would rise no matter how she felt.

She found the kitchen where the cleaning supplies she rarely used were kept, but at the sight of him inspecting the brushes and twisting a rag in his hands, stopped in her tracks and ducked back behind the corner. Butterflies exploded into her stomach, not because she was scared of him, but because he would know. Levi wouldn’t fall for her claims of getting lost. Katrine couldn’t bear him thinking less of her, but didn’t understand why; she’d never cared much for others’ opinions of her. Taking a few deep breaths, she readied her thoughts to appear in control.

Levi acted no differently towards her than before, but there was a subtle yet undeniable change. Katrine still avoided his chores and he still yelled at her when he caught her inside a closet or under a bed, but there wasn’t the same vitriol as there was with others. She thought he did it just to keep up airs. In return she didn’t question him when she found him polishing silverware or scrubbing pots at three in the morning.

Katrine noticed that they had something else in common besides their background: the inability to sleep at night. While she dozed off as the sun came up, sleeping in as long as she could and sneaking off for naps throughout the day, he never seemed to rest. He was always doing something, whether it be cleaning or running or developing plans with Erwin, like every moment of his life had to be used for a purpose. It all seemed very tiring, and there were permanent shadows under his eyes, but he never stopped. 

But even if he did act slightly kinder towards her, what was he going to do now? Was her selfishness going to ruin this too? What was it, anyway? Not a friendship by any means, but it was comforting in a peculiar way to know that they came from the same miserable place. It was like a secret that no one else would ever know. Katrine thought she could trust him, which she’d never felt about any man before.

She took a deep breath, smoothing back her hair and dusting herself off. Only marginally prepared, she approached him, steps measured as to appear neither timid nor careless. He turned his head, expression flat, like he wasn’t surprised to see her there. He’d definitely been awake for hours, possibly all night.

“I have a question for you,” Katrine said authoritatively, like she was on an important errand for someone else. Asking on her own behalf felt awkward.

“What?” He wrinkled his nose a bit and she realized that she probably smelled awful. Refusing to falter, she pressed on.

“The saddles. They’re dusty.” She eyed the brushes, bewildered by the choice.

He tilted his head towards them. “You’ve made it far. These are for cleaning,” he said slowly, like she was stupid. 

“I’m aware,” she retorted, hoping her cheeks wouldn’t betray her. “Which do I use for them?”

“This.” He tossed his rag at her, and she just caught it in time before it fell.

“What do I do with it?” She pinched it between her fingers.

“Clean.” His eyebrows raised a bit, almost like he was amused, and that only made her more flustered.

“There must be an easier way.”

“Not always. Should be conditioner back there, too.”

Katrine swallowed back a groan. “Thanks.” Tossing the rag over her shoulder, she turned and started back to the stables.

“Wait,” he called out, and she stopped. “Don’t use too much or you’ll stain the leather.”

“Thanks,” she said again.

“And you’re lucky you didn’t die.”

He could have said so much more, and she would have deserved every word. “I know.”

Katrine jogged back to the stables, still fearful of anyone else seeing her, and started on the saddles. She found the conditioner he mentioned and worked on polishing them, but instead of thinking of Charlotte, she wondered if Levi never stopped to rest because he also saw the shadows of dead comrades. Was one of them Isabel?

Right as she hung up the last saddle and put away the conditioner, heavy footsteps echoed inside the stables. It was Miche, and when he caught sight of her disheveled appearance, he looked pleased. “Brought the expert,” he said, jabbing a thumb behind him. Levi followed, stoic, as if he’d already decided his verdict. Katrine tensed, acutely aware there was a new rip in her jacket and tendrils of hair glued to her face from sweat. She felt unprepared, like Mr. Kaiser had dragged her onstage and demanded she dance the entire finale of  _ The Crane Queen _ without one minute of practice.

Miche sniffed the air. “Less stale,” he stated, smirking. “Can finally breathe in here, right, Levi?”

Levi walked into the first stall, and then after a minute turned sharply on his heel to inspect the next, unresponsive. Miche curled his lip, annoyed, and Katrine tried not to smile as he made his way through all sixteen of the stalls, giving the next the same level of scrutiny as the last. He then eyed every saddle, every bridle, even under the troughs which had been particularly grimy, and Katrine grew anxious that he would find some secret spot she’d overlooked and then he’d never look at her again. 

Instead he climbed on top of the countertop to check for dust on top of the cabinets. Katrine almost laughed out loud because she was so thankful she’d thought to get up there. Her eyes drifted to Miche, who gawked at Levi. He caught her gaze and shook his head, baffled.

Levi jumped down and brushed off where he’d stepped on the countertop, and made his way back to Miche and Katrine. For someone who didn’t have much range in his facial expressions, the change was drastic; frowning, his brow was furrowed and he blinked a few times as if to clear away the fog from his eyes and find the stables filthy like he’d anticipated. She made sure to commit it to memory since she didn’t think she’d ever see that look again.

Miche lifted his chin, expectant. “Well?”

“Not terrible,” he said. 

Relief flooded through her. It wasn’t praise, but it also wasn’t negative.

“Not terrible?” Miche asked, stunned.

Levi turned to the back of the stables. “There's some rust on the smaller trough,” he muttered, folding his arms. “But that’s nitpicking.”

Miche grunted. “Hear that, Casimir? Get the rust off next time.”

Katrine willed her expression to remain neutral. “Yes, sir.”

“Dismissed. Commander Erwin wants to see you.”

“Now?” she asked, panic lacing her voice.

“Yes, now,” he said, waving her away.

Katrine made her way to the castle, gritting her teeth. Was she going to be paraded in front of everyone today, dirtied and humbled? She was exhausted and didn’t want to keep her guard up for another round of questions. After hauling herself up the stairs to Erwin’s office, she took a deep breath before the solid wooden door and knocked twice. “Come in,” he called out, and she opened the door.

Erwin sat in a meticulously organized office, but his desk was covered in paper, most with unreadable scrawls in black ink. Uninterested in the reports and his illegible handwriting, Katrine glanced at the large map. It was crisscrossed with lines and symbols that covered up what was originally there and implied that he was on the edge of a breakthrough and really shouldn’t be wasting time speaking to her. His lines were very straight, she noticed.

“Katrine,” he said, folding his papers and storing them away. Even though she’d told him to call her that, she didn’t think he actually would, and she felt childish every time he said it.

“Commander.” She saluted him too and sat in the chair across from him when he indicated, twisting her fingers together. If he thought she smelled or looked horrible, he made no indication.

Katrine didn’t understand Erwin the first time she met him and was no closer to it now, two years later. She understood the rest of them, knew their tells, but Erwin had none besides his strange curiosity to know exactly everything about the walls and what went on inside them. Why did he care when there must be better places, unless he had some voyeuristic streak? He was stony in a way that was similar to Levi (and she supposed that was why they got along so well), but while she’d seen flares of Levi’s temper, there was no hint of anything but cold single-minded determination in Erwin. The only time she’d ever heard him yell was to give directions. But every man had a temper, she knew, and she needed to find what would make him crack.

“So, you got lost,” he said, “but not so lost that you couldn’t find your way back.”

Katrine nodded. She tried to analyze his tone to determine if he knew she was lying, but it was too even.

“And since Silas had the maps, I assume you had none?”

She nodded again.

“If you’d followed the route Silas planned, you would most likely have encountered the Titans that attacked them. What route did you take instead?”

_ He’s sharp _ . There was no outsmarting him here. “I was going to use a bridge over the river that I thought would be a shortcut,” she said. “But it was broken.”

“What else did you find?” 

That was a strange question. Why would he ask that first instead of how she made it back safely? It was like he knew, and if she tried to lie it would be laughably obvious. “Um, the mine. Schwarz Mine.”

“And I assume you knew where it was? You didn’t just stumble upon it?”

“I knew. It’s north-northeast to the bend in the river, half a kilometer away.”

Erwin nodded, and bent to open his desk drawer. He withdrew a blank sheet of paper and a pen and pushed them towards her. “Draw me everything outside of Karanes. Thirty-kilometer radius.”

Katrine’s eyes widened. “What?”

“If you know it so well, then you can draw it, can’t you?”

She bit her lip, unsure of how to proceed. Though she could clearly see the current sets of maps in her head, and even the outdated ones, was it wise to let Erwin know that? She could play dumb, though that could backfire. He’d probably see right through it and think she was hiding something. But, it seemed that Erwin already knew the answer to his question. He knew that she could draw them and was looking for confirmation. If she pretended she didn’t, then what kind of punishment would he give?

She picked up the pen and considered the empty page. Briefly she looked up at Erwin, who steepled his fingers and studied her intently. His stare was intense and she dropped her gaze. Setting the pen to paper she started drawing Karanes and the wall, trying and failing to prevent her hand from quivering, and then the towns scattered around it and the rivers cutting through forests. As she marked the fallen bridge, she thought of Mr. Kaiser watching her dance, waiting for mistakes to correct. If she faltered, would Erwin lash out and strike her hand? The two of them looked nothing alike, but they had the same probing, analytical eyes.

Finished, Katrine pushed her drawing back, and Erwin removed a clean map from his desk. He compared them, and though she knew she was correct, he didn’t appear impressed. Instead, he slipped another blank sheet in front of her. “Road between Trost and Shiganshina. Twenty kilometers on each side.”

Katrine repeated the exercise. This was more demanding since the southern region was dotted with tiny villages, but she marked them all and made sure her scale was accurate. Though confident in her ability, her lines were still shaky and it was impossible to stop her knee from quaking. Mr. Kaiser constantly found minor errors to chastise. Was Erwin the same?

When she completed it and raised her head to hand it to him, Erwin was already prepared with another sheet of paper. “Northern section of Wall Maria and fifty kilometers beyond.”

No one went up there; all the maps she’d studied focused on the southern regions. “I haven’t seen that.”

Undeterred, Erwin handed her his map. “How long will it take you to memorize this?”

“Five minutes, I guess.”

“You’ll get three.”

“But that’s not-”

“You’re wasting time.” His tone was not harsh, but stern enough to dissuade any arguments. 

Katrine pressed her lips together and absorbed the map, eyes darting from towns to mountains to lakes. She was dying to know where he’d gotten this, and who’d dared explore that far north despite the howling winter storms and jagged mountains piercing the sky. Erwin tapped his watch, breaking her concentration, and she returned the map in exchange for another sheet of paper. As she replicated it, she weighed the possibilities of what he’d say if she asked who drew that map, but decided it would be best not to press her luck as she passed it back. 

When Erwin compared this attempt, he finally reacted. He raised his eyebrows, but just a fraction.  _ Good, or bad? _ “How did you do this?”

“Uh, it just sticks. In my head.” She wanted to cringe at that terrible explanation, but there was no other way to describe her ability to recall anything written. Things really did just stick.

“I remember what you told me before,” he said. “You wanted to find people outside the walls.” 

_ Of course he remembered.  _

“Why did you want to see that mine?”

Katrine shrugged. “Maybe the tunnel led somewhere. But it was caved in.”

“Silas mentioned a Titan that sat in a tree with red hair. It seemed to have an ability to direct other Titans. Since you’ve seen it, do you think it’s just an abnormal, or something else?”

Levi must have told him about that. But why did he care about what she thought? “Never saw the ones that attacked Shiganshina so I can’t say.”

Erwin nodded thoughtfully. “Sorry for taking up your time. You’re dismissed.”

Why was he apologizing? She was the one bothering him. Something was off about him, she concluded as she stood and saluted again, but right as she reached the door she decided to ask the question burning in the back of her mind. She deserved an answer after sitting through his bizarre exercise. “Where did you get the map for the northern section of Wall Maria? Who went up there?”

Erwin paused for a moment, reports already back in his hands. “These are from four years ago. Pretty outdated.” Suddenly there was an odd glint in his eye. “Any particular interest in the north, Katrine?”

“No. Just wondering.”

He nodded but it was clear he knew there was more to her question.

Katrine left and trudged down the stairs to the barracks, dead tired. It was finally time for a bath and hopefully sleep, but she wasn’t sure if she’d really done enough to deserve it.

* * *

Sara was never one to dwell on death, which Katrine appreciated. If she died smashed to bits by a Titan or galloping off a cliff, Sara would mourn properly for a week by wearing red lipstick. Then, back to normal. 

“I don’t want you choking over me and wearing black for a year,” Sara said. “That really wouldn’t suit you.” The two strolled through the market in Trost, enjoying the fair weather and a day off from formations and drills. The air was filled with the scent of cherry pies and the drone of passing conversations.

Katrine snorted. “Black washes me out. Anyway, that means you have to die before me.” It had been a month since that day at the mine, the day Charlotte died, and though the other Scouts stopped giving her curious looks, she still thought of her often. She found that putting a better effort into training exercises and keeping a watchful eye over Sara helped dispel the guilt.

“Stop talking about that. Not worth it- Garrett!” Sara jumped in delight and bounded towards the tall sandy-haired Garrison soldier, clasping onto his bicep with a giant smile on her face. Katrine groaned. Not that those soldiers were ever rude to Sara, but she didn't want to stand around listening to them talk about...whatever it was they talked about. Most of the time they all gaped moonstruck at Sara and laughed at everything she said, punching each other in the arms for no reason.

Katrine wandered over and leaned against a fruit stand opposite them, pretending to be engrossed by apples instead of keeping her eye on them. There were only two men: Garrett and a diminutive bald man with a drooping mustache whom Sara ignored, to his obvious torment. On these occasions Katrine never joined them, but stayed back and made sure nothing turned lecherous. Sara often blustered afterwards, accusing her of being too intimidating and complaining that she scared the soldiers away. But it was also fascinating to watch Sara play her own kind of character on her own stage. Eyes drifting away for a moment towards the shopkeeper, Katrine waited until he was facing away and snatched an apple from his cart.

“Glad to see you haven’t gotten your head bitten off!”

“No, no, you’ll jinx me!” Sara brought her hands lightly to her cheeks and Garrett glared at the bald soldier for saying something so offensive. Garrett had a sensitive, genial face, one that didn’t hint any kind of lurking malevolence, but Katrine knew that meant nothing. He wrapped an arm around Sara’s shoulders and she leaned into him; Katrine tapped her foot, waiting for him to make the wrong move.

“You’d be safer with the Garrison,” Garrett said. His hand dropped lower, towards the small of her back. Katrine swallowed her bite of the apple.

“But then I wouldn’t get to see the giant forests and the mountains,” Sara said, peering through her lashes into his eyes.

“But there are other things to see…” And then his hand was far too low, too intrusive, and Katrine pounced, indignant. 

“Get your hand off her!” 

Garrett flinched, snapping his arm away, and Sara whirled, eyes narrowed to angry slits. “Ka- _ trine _ !” she hissed.

“Goddamn, what’s your problem?” the other soldier asked, lip curled.

“My problem is his hand on her ass,” Katrine spat.

“What’s the big deal?” Garrett folded his arms and Sara looked crestfallen.

“Another Scout gone insane.” The bald soldier brought his canteen to his lips and the sharp odor of alcohol hit her nose.

“Insane? I’m not the one lurking around waiting to screw anything that moves.” Sara kicked her foot, but Katrine ignored her.

The bald soldier stepped forward. “If you’re so interested, I think you could use a good screw.”

That was it; without hesitation Katrine lobbed her apple at him. It missed him by a wide margin, but smashed against the wall behind him and sent a spray of juice across the back of his head. Shocked, he dropped his canteen and the alcohol splashed onto Garrett.

“Agh! What the hell!” Garrett jumped back, disgusted.

An angry vein pulsed in the bald soldier’s forehead. “I’m shoving that pretty little face of yours in the dirt!”

“Why do you always  _ do  _ this?” Sara whined.

The fruit seller’s reedy voice rose above the din. “Miss, you forgot to pay!” 

Katrine dug her nails into her thigh. She’d gone too far, again, and now the only option left was to flee. She took a step backward, and then another, until she hit something solid. A firm hand pushed her shoulder aside and she turned, startled.

“I can hear you from all the way down the street. Giving me a goddamn migraine,” Levi said, pinching his temples with his thumb and forefinger. Katrine’s eyes flickered back to the soldiers, both relieved and embarrassed. He could save her, or he could turn around and berate her as well.

“Fuck off,” the bald soldier said. “Don’t go shoving your nose into things that aren’t your business.”

“Sure, Pixis’s less successful and more alcoholic son has it all under control,” Levi said. Katrine turned to him, agape. He was right on the mark; the man did look like a watered-down version of Pixis. How’d he think of that so quickly?

“He’s right, get lost,” Garrett said. “Besides, Pixis is his uncle.” The bald man’s mouth flapped open and shut like he hadn’t settled on the right response.

Levi’s gaze drifted to Katrine’s, and though his expression was still neutral there was a colluding glint in his eyes. “This guy,” he said to her, pointing at Garrett, “looks like he moans when he shits.”

Garrett blanched, Sara gasped and Katrine bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from cackling. She desperately wished she still had the apple so she could cover her mouth and do something with her hands and not look like she was thoroughly impressed. Then she saw the bald man’s horrified look and wanted to laugh even harder.

“She threw a goddamn apple at me!” he shrieked, nearly poking Katrine in the face with his finger. “Completely unwarranted, and you yell at us?”

Levi shrugged. “Didn’t even hit you and you still got a concussion.” 

_ He saw that?  _ She silently cursed her poor aim.

Seeing that victory over Levi was impossible, the bald man shifted his ire to Katrine. “Learn how to be more ladylike. Spite looks ugly on you.”

“Looks better than you ever will.” She watched Levi from her peripheral to gauge his reaction, but he didn’t move. For some inexplicable reason she was disappointed.

“Goddamn Scouts. So uncivilized,” the bald man said. Garrett nodded emphatically and Sara shook her head, frantic. “My uncle will hear about this.”

“Blaming us won’t make your uncle promote you,” Levi said. “And the crumbs in your mustache won’t help.”

Out of the corner of her eye Kartine saw the soldier’s hand immediately fly to his mouth, but she only stared at Levi, awestruck. He wasn’t afraid of them, and probably wasn’t afraid of anyone. They were going to slink away like kicked dogs and he hadn’t even said anything remotely threatening. He wasn’t going to change his demeanor for them, or her, and Katrine wished she too didn’t have to strategize on how to appear to others to get them to do what she wanted. Also, his brutal vulgarity was incredible, and she would do anything to be able to say what he did without fear of retaliation. The Garrison soldiers could complain all they wanted, but none of them were going to test him.

When neither of the soldiers responded, Levi seemed satisfied with his takedown and walked away without a second glance. Katrine darted after him; she didn’t want to stick around for the fallout and knew no one would mess with her when she was next to him. The fruit seller called out again, but she pretended she didn’t hear him. 

“Wasn’t my fault,” she blurted, just so he knew. It was true, she was trying to protect Sara.

“Sure it wasn’t.” It was clear he didn’t believe her. “And you should pay that poor man.”

“I already did.”

He clicked his tongue, disappointed. “Terrible arm you’ve got. Wasn’t even close.”

“It got the job done,” she replied, and pressed her lips together.

Levi stopped in front of a shop, and Katrine looked inside the window. Tea tins were aligned in neat rows inside, and she swallowed her smile.

“Planning on getting into any more fights? I’ve got more important things to do than save your sorry ass.”

“I was fine before you showed up,” Katrine lied.

He scoffed. “Maybe you could use to get shoved in the dirt.” With that he turned and entered the shop.

Katrine tried to get angry, but she couldn’t; instead she remembered the Garrison soldiers’ faces and snickered. Someone shook her shoulder and she turned to find Sara, eyes puffy and seething. “Do you know what I had to do to fix that?”

Katrine inhaled through her teeth. “Sorry.” She started wandering aimlessly through the crowds, but Sara stomped after her.

“Garrett’s never gonna speak to me again!”

She threw up her hands. “I hope he doesn’t, he’s gross!”

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you have a thing for him.”

Katrine halted. “What? No.” She said it too loud and too quickly and wanted to bite her tongue off.

“So you do!” Sara folded her arms, smug. 

She shook her head and started walking again, trying to act logical. “Why would I? Levi doesn’t like me. He doesn’t like anyone.” It was true, and perfectly logical.

“Doesn’t matter. You were practically drooling back there. And I didn’t even say his name before.”

Her mouth dried. That was sly. “I just thought he was funny.”

Sara gagged. “Funny? I thought your sense of humor was better than that.”

“Whatever.” She waved her away. “But, does he?”

“Does he what?”

“Moan when he shits.” Katrine barely finished before giggling so hard she had to bend over, and Sara kicked her foot again.

* * *

Katrine now regularly attended training sessions instead of claiming to have important errands to run, and even started dragging herself to the optional ones. As a result she could do twenty push-ups without collapsing, but pull-ups still baffled her. It made no sense. If she could push herself up and down off the ground without stopping, then why couldn’t she pull herself up? She’d watched male soldiers do forty in a row, clambering over each other to prove they could outdo the last, and felt her arms ache.

She eyed the metal bar that hung off the eave of the equipment shed in the training grounds, the humid night air sending sweat trailing down her back. It stared back innocently at her, moonlight dully reflecting off it, like it too had no idea why she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t going to risk anyone seeing her, not like in the training corps when Instructor Shadis asked in front of everyone if she had noodles for arms. Though that and her pitifully low score for physical ability on the final examination were humiliating, she figured she was fast enough and hadn’t thought to change it until Charlotte died. Now she knew it was better to be stronger in case Sara was in danger than keep the lean dancer arms that weren’t going to grace the stage anytime soon.

Ready to try again, Katrine jumped up and grasped the bar, certain that if she held her breath and glared at her hands she might be able to muscle through, but even though she squeezed her biceps as hard as she could and gripped the bar so tightly she thought she could bend the it, she went nowhere. Only her feet dangled pathetically off the ground, and she dropped back down and huffed, scraping the dirt with her boot. “Fuck you too,” she said, curling her lip.

“Insulting it’s not going to help.”

She knew that voice, knew that there was no one else who’d be awake at this time of night, and didn’t bother turning. “I’ve found it often does,” she said, hoping the embarrassed strain in her tone wasn’t obvious. Couldn’t she fail in peace without the most skilled man in the Scouts judging her?

“If it did then you’d be the strongest one here,” Levi said, and his footsteps grew louder until he was beside her.

She turned casually, ready to tell him to shove off, but at the sight of him every nerve in her body ignited, enough to obliterate her fatigue and flood her with buzzing raw energy.

He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, soaking through his thin cotton shirt rolled up at the forearms that obviously had no problem with any number of pull-ups. It was open at the collar and she could clearly see the droplets collecting between his collarbones, glistening in the moonlight, and the damp fabric clung to his chest, hinting at what was beneath. For a moment she could only hear the blood rushing in her ears, only feel her skin turn from icy to burning and back again, until she realized the single sound filling the air was his slight panting and she realized she was supposed to say something.

“What are you doing here?” she asked stupidly.

“Running,” he said. “Heard your complaining. Didn’t think pull-ups could be so noisy.” He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands stuck to his forehead out of the way, and then the only thing she could see was the line of his jaw. Simultaneously she wished she was blind and wondered how she hadn’t noticed before when it was clear as day that he was gorgeous, more than any pretty bracelet or necklace she ever owned, more so than any man had any right to be.

This had not happened before, or not so intensely. Most of the men Sara talked to were handsome, objectively speaking. The male dancers at Mitras Company were all attractive. But they didn’t send a wave of prickly heat down her back, or sever the connection between her brain and her mouth. It wasn’t supposed to happen. She didn’t like men, didn’t trust them; so why did she want to reach her finger out and trace the jutting line of his collarbone?

Katrine forced her attention back to the bar. “I don’t get it,” she said. “I can do push-ups.”

“It’s not just your arms,” Levi said. “Starts with your back.”

“But I am using my back.”

“No, you’re not.” Though she couldn’t help but bristle, his tone wasn’t critical. Instead he sounded like he was just pointing out the obvious, like that it was a full moon. But how did he know that? How could he tell? Suddenly she felt his eyes on her back, though he wasn’t even looking at her.

“I’ve got a trick you can use,” he said. Katrine didn’t know where to look; not his chest, not his arms, and certainly not his eyes. Instead she settled for the top of his head.

“I don’t trust any trick of yours.” She didn’t like where this was going, and hated feeling like she was just barely containing the swirl of primal emotion torrenting through her.

Levi shrugged. “Helped Isabel.” 

“Alright, then, what is it?” Katrine conceded that she really could use the help.

He pointed to the bar and positioned himself so he was facing her. “Hop up.”

Katrine leaped up and grabbed it, waiting for his next instruction.

“Give me your feet.”

“What?” she asked incredulously, drawing her knees to her chest. This was definitely going to be some strange torture.

“You heard me. It’ll make sense in a moment.”

She wrinkled her nose, making it obvious that she thought this was odd, but stretched out her legs. He took both her ankles in one hand, lifting them up near his shoulder, and though she had boots on she could feel the pressure of his fingers through the tough leather. The other he pressed to his waist, pushing the hem of his shirt up so that she could see a sliver of skin, enough to make her bite her lip and look purposefully at the bar.  _ You have a thing for him! _ Sara’s tittering voice echoed through her head. How had she known before Katrine did? Was it so obvious, written all over her face for everyone to see? Did he see it too?

“Now you have less weight, so you can get the motion down. You have to squeeze your back first,” Levi said. “Shoulder blades together. Then you use your arms.” 

Katrine thought she’d been doing that already, but focused on following the steps. She squeezed her shoulders together, pushing them back, and then tensed her biceps and pulled herself upwards. Instead of hovering in place, straining to move, her chest lifted effortlessly and she rested her chin on the bar. “It worked!” she gasped, unable to contain her excitement.

“Of course it did,” he said. “Three more.”

Katrine completed them, though her arms started to shake on the last one. It felt like she was awakening muscles she didn’t know existed. “Now what?” she asked, breathless.

“Now one with just your right arm.”

Katrine snorted. “And rip my arm out the socket?”

“Won’t know until you try.”

Twisting her lips, she slowly removed her left hand and gripped the bar tighter with her remaining hand. Even with half her weight gone, this was going to be impossible. She engaged the muscles in her back, trying to pull herself up, when suddenly there was a shooting pain in her shoulder and she gasped, shocked, and her hand slipped off the bar.

Levi was fast, dropping her legs and immediately extending his arms, and he caught her right before she plummeted to the ground. His hand pressed into her back, icy and damp, and before she knew it her own fingers grasped his bicep. She was close enough to feel his breath tickle her cheek and to catch his scent, a mixture of earth and sweat that reminded her of the forests, not at all like the stagnant stale odor of the Underground. Her lips parted to gasp but nothing came.

Looking at him, the only thing in her field of vision, she saw that his eyes were not the gunmetal gray she thought they were but a deep navy, the color of the night sky right before dawn. His eyelashes were thick and dark, something the girls at the Mitras Company would have killed for, and his cheekbones looked almost delicate beneath his pale skin, something that didn’t match his personality. Up close his eyes didn’t look tired and dull; they were softer. There was a tiny flutter in her chest, foreign but not painful, caught inside her ribs in the absence of breath. It was something she immediately knew was going to invade her every thought.

Just as suddenly as he caught her Levi dropped her, like he realized his touch was improper, and right as she hit the ground that flutter was gone and air rushed back into her lungs.

“You can use a chair, or someone else,” he said, stepping back. “Not gonna hold you forever.”

Katrine sat up, concentrating on breathing. In and out, in and out. “Thanks.”  _ Be calm, be normal. _

“Let me know when you can do a one-arm pull-up. Though it might take you a few years.”

“I’ll work on it,” she said, and he disappeared behind the shed. She could hear his footsteps recede in the gravel, back to running.

Katrine exhaled forcefully and then sucked in as much air as she could until her lungs twinged, tugging at her hair and trying to gather her thoughts. This didn’t make any sense either. Levi kept doing kind things for her, things she wouldn’t consider doing for him or for others, and didn’t seem to expect anything in return. In fact, he acted like he wanted nothing from her. But that was wrong; people always wanted something in return. No one was that altruistic.

And why was she still thinking about the soft look in his eyes, and how she wished she had reached up to touch his face? Her hands felt empty, robbed of the sensation.

The sudden burst of energy was gone and now she was so tired she didn’t think she could make it to the barracks. She collapsed to her back and took in the stars, head hurting more than her arms.


	10. Chapter 10

_ Year 850 _

A choking gasp startled Katrine awake, and the taste in her mouth was foul and fuzzy. Her head pounded, exacerbated by the blinding sunlight streaming through her window, clearly past noon. Groaning, she dropped her head back on the pillow, but suddenly lifted it back up and narrowed her eyes. That was odd. She remembered solving the code, but past that, nothing.

Actually, there was one thing. Her mother, consisting of only a voice and those thin dry hands, wondering why she hadn’t opened that green book filled with the beautiful script even once since she'd returned from Utopia. It was the first she’d dreamed of her mother since then. Must’ve been too busy, Katrine assumed. Even though it did tug at the back of her mind, there were a thousand other things to do that took priority, first of which was to figure out what those priests were hiding. So, her mother could disappear back to wherever she came from. And she had some nerve to chide Katrine for being distracted by a man. Like mother, like daughter, apparently.

After gulping down the remaining cold tea in a forgotten mug, Katrine leaned off the side of the bed and groped for the papers. When she found them she rolled onto her back, trying to read slowly so she could properly analyze the words, but soon her eyes rushed down the pages. Panic swelled.

_ By the grace of Ymir, who granted us such power, bestowed first upon the daughters of King Fritz, and thus his grandson King Oscar, and thus his son King Florian... _ and on and on and on, down the first three pages and a large portion of the fourth. Katrine tried to steady her racing heart and quick breathing, but this was useless, just a giant list of names, an adulating testimony to their power. A steady stream of curses torrented out her mouth.  _ And thus his daughter Queen Eleanor, and thus her grandson King Phillip… _ The only deviance was a King Karl who was deemed “father of the Walls,” but then more of the same. Had she really spent all this effort just for this self-serving bullshit? She’d expected something useful that would prove how clever she was, but this was a failure. Infuriatingly, Erwin would just nod and move to the next lead, with or without her. She refused to think about what Levi would do.

_ ...and thus his son King Uri, and finally to his brother King Rod, long may he live. _

Katrine stopped, brow furrowed. That didn’t make sense. When she’d lived in Mitras the king’s name was Friedrich Fritz, and when he died there’d been a stately funeral procession culminating in the coronation of his son, William Fritz. Who was Rod, or Uri? Maybe they were pseudonyms. But what was the point of using fake names in a letter already in code? And who or what was Ymir?

Noting those concerns, Katrine continued.  _ Despite the quick repair, the citizens of Stohess are rightly concerned regarding the exposure of the Walls, though Father Lucian’s efforts to quell fear have been effective _ . Hange told her about that, the eerie face of a Titan gazing down at them, and thought that there could be more. But why hide dead Titans in the walls? And if they were just sleeping, then could they wake up? The letter went on to state that the citizens who’d seen it had been compensated for their troubles, and a few defiant ones punished; Katrine desperately hoped Josephine and Aster had seen nothing.

_ However, Commander Smith demanded answers of Mayor Grimmer, far too many, and must be reminded of his position. Commander Dok has been notified and the proper arrangements have been made _ . That sounded dire, and the cold prick of worry surprised her. She usually didn’t spare much concern for Erwin.

_ As a happy coincidence, the repair of the wall was a perfect time to test the effectiveness of the hardening solution, which exceeded expectations thanks to the tireless research of Father Lucian. Of the subjects gathered, four tested well, though regrettably the remaining twelve-  _ And there it ended, one lonely sentence trailing off onto the otherwise empty page. Katrine glared at it, grinding her teeth, as if the words might materialize from the recesses of her brain. They didn’t.

What was a hardening solution? Wouldn’t the wall be repaired with stones? And research, and subjects? This sounded like something a doctor or scientist would write, not a priest. The word “regrettably” seemed darker than the others, threatening; what horrible thing happened to twelve that didn’t to four? Suddenly she remembered Josephine, wide-eyed and fingers taut, recounting the boy sprinting from the cathedral. Now it seemed more sinister than just an instance of not wanting to sing more hymns. 

Katrine sighed. More questions, and no answers. She didn’t even know who wrote the letter, or to whom it was addressed. Begrudgingly, she wished Erwin was awake so he could read it. He’d find a pattern, read between the lines, and pull out something she’d never think to find. He’d probably say to consider what the Cult didn’t include in the letter, and if that had any significance. 

There was nothing related to the paintings, nor anything that hinted at evidence of other people living outside the walls. That was disappointing. She gazed at the letters hacked into her wall and wondered dimly if it would have been better to carve them somewhere else so they wouldn’t loom over her every night in her sleep. There also wasn’t anything related to Hange’s question of whether humans could be turned into Titans. What the hell was she supposed to do with the information not in the letter? That didn’t help at all. She tossed her legs off the bed and slammed her feet on the floor. Thanks, Erwin _ . _

Katrine would have gladly gone to Hange, but she was in Ragako. There was Levi, but she was too uncertain about what the letter meant and would not look stupid in front of him. She could already imagine his narrowed eyes that somehow looked down on her even though she was taller. He’d ask if she hadn’t figured it out already because she was too distracted by her sparkling new ashtray. She wasn’t going to dance over and lay down in the palm of his hand just to be crushed.

Stomach rumbling, Katrine quickly combed out the tangles in her hair and braided it again, avoiding looking at the symbols reflected in the mirror. Next came the lipstick, brazen red. Combined with the right sneer and a tilt of the head, hopefully anyone with questions might rethink asking.

The kitchens were nearly empty; only those scrounging for an early lunch were there. Katrine grabbed a bowl and scooped out the dregs of the morning’s oatmeal, lumpy and pathetic, and with a furtive glance dumped a heaping spoonful of sugar on top. After surveying the occupants of the dining hall, she was relieved to find Mila sitting alone reading a newspaper with her chin nestled in her palm. Katrine plunked her bowl down and collapsed onto the bench, spine creaking.

“Hope you kept your nose clean while I was gone.” She took a bite and closed her eyes in bliss when the sugar hit her tongue. “Where’s Elisabeth?”

Mila stirred her bowl of soup. “Sitting outside his room. She didn’t want company.” She set her spoon down and grinned at Katrine, her eyes shining. “It’s been long enough, tell me what happened!”

“Erwin’s thinking of joining the Cult, so he wanted me to drop off his application for priesthood at the cathedral.” Katrine shoved more oatmeal in her mouth. Erwin liked to keep his plans confidential, but if Mila really wanted to know, she’d probably spill. She spun the newspaper towards her and glanced at the contents, a cover story on the Cult’s construction of an orphanage in Orvud.

Mila threw her spoonful of soup back in the bowl and leveled her with an exacting stare. “I’m not asking about that.”

That question was actually worse. “Would you believe Levi complained for twenty minutes about his broken ankle? It was awful!”

“I wouldn't, I’ve never heard him speak more than two sentences at once.” 

Not her best lie. Must have been the lack of sleep. “Okay, pretty awkward. He looked pained the entire time and probably wanted to abandon me there. But it doesn’t matter. Barely thought about him with this whole Cult thing.”

“That’s it?” Mila looked doubtful.

The pressure of his fingers dug into her waist again, and the sticky sensation of blood combined with the heat of his neck blazed across her skin. She noticed the spoon in her hand trembling. “Yes.”

“Katrine?” A voice cut in from behind and, for the first time in her life, she was thankful for a male interruption.

“Johan!” She smiled wolfishly, aware of Mila’s reddening face. “Practicing your arabesques, I hope?”

“Right, about that.” Jean touched his neck. “So, did we pass the test and will you help us with ODM?”

Katrine had hoped that they’d forgotten about that, or that she’d scared them off; evidently multiple intelligent Titans in their cadre made them impervious to fear. She rubbed her forehead, suddenly exhausted. “Look, I’ve got this big assignment from Commander Erwin, and…”

He nodded, but something pitiful in his expression made her heart sink. Stupid, feeling sympathy for him. He really was trying too hard.

“We’re leaving soon, Jean,” someone called out from the entrance.

“Be right there.” His jaw twitched in desperation. “But, please, what happened back there, I can’t afford not to.”

“I don’t-”

“Jean!” Levi’s voice was a blast from a cannon, assaulting her on all sides. He can’t be here, she wasn’t ready! Katrine snatched up the newspaper and opened it to shield her face. Jean flinched but didn’t immediately run off, like he should have. She needed him gone, immediately. 

“Sometime next week!” She held the paper so close that her breath blew back into her face.

“Thank you!” Out of the corner of her eye she saw him salute her and dart away. Still holding the paper up, she rested her head on the table and groaned, covering her ears with it.

“Are you alright?” Mila asked.

“Should’ve failed them all back there,” she muttered.

“What did he mean, pass the test?”

Katrine straightened and peeked over the paper; no sight of him. Muscles slowly easing, she tossed the misaligned pages back on the table. “He wants me to teach him the art of flight. But really, you can’t teach genius, I’m like a hawk and he’s just a-”

“When you train him, invite me!” The words came out in a high-pitched rush.

She waggled her eyebrows. “I can facilitate that. But you need to learn how to speak to him first instead of turning bright red. Isn’t that a basic in relationships?”

“No offense, but I’ll get advice on that matter elsewhere.”

Stunned, Katrine grabbed her spoon and smacked Mila’s forehead.

* * *

The gems in the ashtray were not real, the jeweler said, just colored glass and worth no more than the magnifying glass he used to inspect it. He said this to her chest, not her face, despite the fact that her dress buttoned at the neck and she had barely any breasts to speak of. That was the price of business, though; they clamped their mouths shut and suddenly had nothing to trade when she wore her uniform.

Exiting the shop, Katrine barely heard the bell ringing behind her. The gray skies that greeted her that morning spat out a light drizzle, and the streets of Trost were muddy and abandoned. Spinning the ashtray between her thumb and forefinger, the gold paint grew slick and the glass stones glittered with drops of rain. She should have been annoyed, but either the cool air or the revelation that a wealthy cathedral in Stohess resorted to fakery dampened the feeling.

After spending the previous day poring over the letter for clues she may have missed, Katrine thought that a walk to the other side of the district would help clear her head. It failed miserably. Every child she saw scampering down the streets or clinging to their mother’s hand reminded her of Josephine’s story. Cecily too, screaming so loud her lungs could burst. There was nothing in the letter specifically about children, but the last line of the letter was so odious, she couldn’t help wondering if they were related. But really, no one in their right mind would condone harming a child, especially something as gruesome-sounding as experiments, and the Cult touted its belief in their purity. Certainly in Stohess, the children of wealthy parents would certainly be missed. And doctors did their experiments on rodents, not children. Stupid, stupid. Josephine always exaggerated.

But how could she believe that, not when she’d been plucked from the Underground for someone else’s use?

Turning a corner, Katrine saw three soldiers gathered underneath the eave of a bar and her thoughts scattered. Though she couldn’t see their faces the purple blur on the back of one’s jacket was unmistakable. Katrine frowned, considering changing her direction, but curiosity kept her walking straight toward them. What were MPs doing in Trost? There was no reason for them to stray far from the comforts of Wall Sina.

“This was supposed to take five days, tops. Wife’s gonna be pissed,” one said, toeing at a puddle with his boot.

The stocky soldier with an overgrown beard nodded. “He’s awake. Just load him up and get going.” 

Katrine halted. Her mind flashed to Erwin. What would they want with him? She quieted her steps, straining to hear.

“He just woke up. Can’t go busting in immediately. Propriety and all,” the tallest soldier said with a shrug.

“About that, Peter. He lived, so pay up,” the bearded man said.

Peter groaned and dug through his pocket. “Coulda sworn he’d croak! Yet again the Scouts let me down.”

_ He  _ is  _ awake! And nobody thought to tell me? _ Katrine attempted to swallow down her exasperated groan, but twitched when Peter met her eyes. Instead a choked yelp escaped her lips and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

The other soldiers turned at the noise. “What do you want?” the tallest asked, folding his arms.

“Ah- Is Mitras really as pretty as they say?”  _ Smile, don’t be suspicious! _ She stretched her lips into a pained grin and clasped her hands behind her.

“For the most part, when you’re not working,” Peter said.

The short man stroked his beard. “But the royal palace of Mitras is so beautiful, a triumph of architecture and human achievement!”

“Not again,” the tall man grumbled.

“Really?” She willed herself to stay perfectly still and not bounce on her toes in anticipation.

“When I grew up in Krolva I always dreamed of standing under the great stained glass window of the three Sisters of the Walls, and the buttresses are a feat of engineering! It was the only reason I even joined the MPs in the first place-”

“Thanks!” Katrine pivoted and sprinted away, suspiciousness be damned. If Erwin really was awake, he needed to see the letter and tell her his thoughts. She darted through alleyways and splashed through puddles, swiping the rain from her face, cursing herself for deciding to walk so far from headquarters.

Once Katrine reached the Scouts’ compound and burst into her room, threw the ashtray on her bed and snatched up the papers, she found Erwin’s quarters and barged inside without knocking. If he hadn’t heard her thundering footsteps, then he’d probably lost his hearing, too.

Upon seeing Erwin lying in bed and Levi sitting beside him, she immediately wished she’d let him come to her instead. She was so used to his immaculately combed blonde hair and crisply starched shirts that it was disconcerting to find him with bags under his eyes and stubble. The bandage wrapped around what was left of his arm was visible, and cringing, she imagined the blood and splintering bone. His expression, however, was expectant and revealed no hint of pain.

“From the cathedral,” she said, breaking the silence and holding up the papers.

“Going somewhere?” Levi asked dryly, resting his elbows on his knees.

Suddenly the collar of the dress strangled her, and its fraying seams and speckles of mud must have been glaringly obvious. That goddamn ashtray was supposed to buy her a new one. Her belated annoyance surged to her fingers and she wished she hadn’t left it behind so she could throw it at his head. He had no right to say anything about her. “Yes, somewhere important,” she snapped.  _ I should have known he’d be here! _ Redirecting her attention, she turned to Erwin. “You look awful.” She didn’t think she’d be too torn up if he died, but admittedly was relieved he was alive. He was a good leader, and too smart to go like that.

Levi threw her a withering look, but Erwin smiled. “I can’t disagree. So, what did you find?”

She handed the papers to him and sat down in the empty chair facing his bed. “They mention you, hope you’re flattered.”

He took them in his one remaining hand. How was he so calm and accepting of the injury? She would scream and rage and swear death upon all Titans. She fiddled with her hair, waiting for him to finish, and studied the mud on her boots, refusing to look at either of them. Levi only glanced at her when she entered and his eyes immediately darted back to Erwin, like he was ready to shove him back down if he decided to get out of bed.

Finished, Erwin passed the pages to Levi. “Unless no one’s informed me of a coronation, Rod Reiss is not the name of our current king.”

“Right,” Katrine agreed. “And previous one’s wrong, too.”

“The last ten are wrong,” Erwin said.

“How do you know that?” Levi asked, taking the words right out of her mouth.

Erwin smiled. “I had to memorize royal genealogy for an exam once. When I was eleven.”

Levi’s eyebrow raised a fraction. A pang of jealousy twinged in Katrine’s throat; she wished she’d been the one to know that.

“This list has far more kings than I’m aware of,” he continued.

“Huh?” Katrine brushed the end of her braid against her palm. 

“I know of thirteen kings. This list has more than I can count.”

“It might be a code,” Levi said. “Not literal kings, but something else.”

“It doesn’t make sense to have a code within a code. Unless they’re really trying to hide something,” Erwin said. “Coincidentally, one of the cadets just revealed that she’d been going by a false name. Her real name is Historia Reiss. A possible relative of Rod Reiss?”

Katrine shrugged. She didn’t know if Reiss was a particularly rare surname. “Why’s that matter? The interesting stuff’s at the end, and I didn’t even get to see it all.” She wrinkled her nose at Levi, but he didn’t take the bait. Instead he tapped the pages.

“There’s a Ymir, too. That’s the name of the girl who also transformed into a Titan,” he said.

“That another one of yours, Levi? You’re just a magnet for them, aren’t you?”

“I was with you when it happened, dumbass.”

“Pastor Nick said that Christa Lenz knew about the history of the walls.” Erwin’s gaze drifted towards the window. “Historia,” he corrected.

“Who?”

“Another 104th cadet. Historia Reiss, like I said. She seems to have some connection to the Cult. And now, this Rod Reiss.”

“And you’re  _ sure  _ she’s not an intelligent Titan?”

Erwin chuckled. “Guess we’ll see. At first I wondered if she was a spy, but if she’s related to Rod Reiss, then she might be something else. However, if the Cult is saying Reiss is the true king, then this doesn’t just involve them. It’s possible the government is in the Cult’s pocket, or vice versa.”

“Who cares about the government?” Katrine pointed at the papers in Levi’s hands. “They’re talking about testing, and research, and then ‘regrettably the twelve?’ I don’t like the sound of that.”

“They’re probably trying to find a way to turn their shit to gold,” Levi said. 

Katrine threw up her hands and started to reply, but Erwin cut her off. “That is curious,” he agreed, like he hadn’t heard Levi. “And a hardening solution? Used on the walls, or humans?”

“How’d you come to that conclusion?” If Erwin wondered the same thing, then were her concerns justified? The damp fabric of her dress sent a chill down her back.

“Why write an entire letter in code if this research is inconsequential? Though accusing the Cult of conducting experiments on people might be a rushed judgment.” Erwin took the letter back from Levi and flipped to the last page. “Unfortunate place to end. How did you find this?”

Katrine pointed at Levi. “He’s the one who knows how to find secret compartments in desks. I suggest you be careful about anything important in yours.”

Erwin’s lips curled in a slight smile. “Good to know. No other letters?”

“Nope, that’s it. The long and the short of it,” she answered but directed at Levi. His eyes drifted from Erwin to her, though he remained motionless with his arms folded. Erwin held up the first page to the light of his window, as if there were a message hidden behind the words, and muttered to himself. Katrine ground her soggy boot into the floor and cursed herself for wasting that insult on an unreceptive audience.

“They never used the word ‘Titan.’ I was hoping they would, given what Hange’s discovered,” Erwin said.

“She seems to think that Titans could be humans, since some cadet said his mother’s been turned into one, but I didn’t see anything that confirmed it in the letter.” Katrine reclined in her chair. “Is she back?”

“You just missed her, actually. Turns out her theory has more weight to it. Connie Springer’s certain the Titan in Ragako is his mother,” Erwin said.

“Just say it, Erwin,” Levi said. “You think Titans are humans.”

Time stopped, the floor beneath her disappeared, and the blood in her veins evaporated.  _ Titans are humans. _ But how? Spontaneously? If humans just exploded into Titans randomly, then it would have happened in a city somewhere, so what caused this? And, more importantly, since there were Titans crawling outside Wall Maria and beyond, were those also people beforehand? She thought she heard Erwin say something, but she couldn’t comprehend it. That was the only conclusion, the only logical explanation, and that brilliant shining paradise actually existed, waiting for her, for  _ her! _

“Katrine?” Erwin looked at her expectantly.

“Where’d the other ones come from?” she blurted. She knew it was just a theory, but her hope soared, sending her knee bouncing.

“The other what?”

“The other Titans beyond Wall Maria, if those were people then where did they come from?” Katrine leaned forward in her chair. “If they’re people first, they must live somewhere.”

Erwin frowned. “That’s a good question, but-”

“The painting, the painting!” Katrine slapped her knee. “Levi, you remember, the painting with people in the water?”

He nodded. “But all those paintings were strange. Like fever dreams.”

“Yes, right, but there was a painting in the Edelweiss Cathedral depicting people walking through water,” Katrine explained. Erwin nodded, rapt. “And there was writing at the bottom that said they were marching across the sea. Hange said seas were too deep for people to just walk across, but they really looked like people.”

Levi shook his head. “You should know people can’t walk on water.”

Katrine ignored him. “They were people, Erwin!” 

“What other paintings were there?” Erwin rubbed his chin. 

“One with some tall furry animal? But it was walking like a person. I didn’t get a good look at it.” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s more in the church in Trost,” Erwin said. “Since they were all attacked by intelligent Titans, maybe Stohess, Trost, and Shiganshina are connected in some way...” He trailed off, lost in thought. Katrine pressed her lips together, trying to suppress the wild grin threatening to explode, and willed herself not to move.  _ People! Somewhere else! If the Scouts killed thousands of Titans, then that’s thousands of people, who lived somewhere with thousands more people, thousands more places that must be better than here- _

“You can go by yourself to Shiganshina,” Levi said to Katrine. “Count me out of that shithole.”

Katrine dropped her shoulders, trance broken. “Then my blood will be on your hands. And more break-ins?” She turned to Erwin. “So you think you’re above the law?”

“I do hate using you for shady purposes, though I’m sure you’re not too offended. Sorry to disappoint you, Levi, but a trip to Shiganshina is inevitable. Whatever Cult building there could be just as important as that basement.”

“Basement?” Katrine had never heard of this, and wondered with a flare of pique why no one bothered to inform her of that, either.

“Eren Jaeger had a key that he claims opens his father’s basement. He doesn’t know what’s down there, but if he can turn into an intelligent Titan, then possibly his father knew about it, even if Eren didn’t,” Erwin said. “His father was a doctor. I wonder if that relates to this testing they mention.”

“Does no one think to tell me these things?”

Erwin shook his head ruefully. “You were in Utopia-”

“I’ll go to the church here,” Katrine interrupted. Her exile was not to be mentioned.

“You’ll have to do it yourself,” Levi said. “Eren needs to get stronger.”

“It’s fine,” Katrine said. “Maybe I’ll get Miche to come. He’ll sniff it out for me.” Her comment was met with a heavy silence, the one that always came whenever someone had died or disappeared, and she immediately felt guilty for the offhand remark. Miche had actually snorted at a quip she’d made at the last meeting they’d had, which was a pleasant surprise.

“He hasn’t returned, so we have to assume the worst,” Erwin said.

“I’ll take a squad member, then,” she said. That felt too dry, and she looked down at her boots. There was a crescent of mud caked around the toe, something Levi would criticize.

Erwin shifted, adjusting the pillow behind his back. “You could always go to Mitras.”

Anger bubbled behind her eyes. “Is that a suggestion, or an order?” Levi shot her a look, one that told her to calm down, and she ignored it. Erwin had already dragged her to the capital once, and that was once too many. She’d cut off his other arm if he ordered her there.

“Always good to have someone in Mitras,” he said evenly. “And if this letter is any indication, some people might be banging on my door soon enough.”

Katrine remembered the soldiers huddled together, discussing that Erwin was awake. “I saw MPs today.”

“I saw them too. You should have a guard here,” Levi said.

“Not necessarily. I don’t want to arouse too much suspicion. And, it might be strategic to let them think they’ve got me.”

Levi narrowed his eyes. “Sure you didn’t get knocked on the head too?”

Erwin laughed. “Possibly.”

“You must be tired,” Levi said, rising to his feet. Katrine did the same.

“On the contrary, this has given me a lot to think about,” Erwin said, straightening the papers on his lap. “Let me know what you find, Katrine.”

She nodded curtly and was out the door in three strides, heading towards the stairs. Those experiments; Erwin thought the Cult could use humans, too, and she hadn’t even told him about Josephine and Cecily. Maybe he knew more than he let on. She wished he hadn’t said it, though, and now that disquieting notion creeping in the back of her mind was growing stronger. There needed to be something in Trost’s church to disprove the suspicion so she didn’t have to obsess over the possibility anymore.

“Hey.” His voice echoed down the hallway and stopped her in her tracks, and she turned to watch him close the door behind him. “You need to be careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

“No, you’re not.” Approaching her, Levi leveled his gaze on her, the same steely look he’d given Erwin that revealed nothing of what he thought of the new information. “You have your knife? They’re probably already onto us, and I don’t like what that letter said.”

Katrine continued down the stairs. “I already have a plan,” she said over her shoulder.

“What?” He caught up to her.

She stopped abruptly, enough for him to move down another step, and she seized the chance to lord her her height over him. “I think I’ll just burn the whole thing down.” He wasn’t intimidated, because that was impossible, but his grip tightened on the banister. He didn’t look at her chest, or her muddy boots, but directly into her eyes, the severe midnight blue disarming her of any barb she had left to throw. Involuntarily her gaze shifted to his neck. The bandage was gone, along with the stitches, though a few faint marks remained.

“Maybe you can tighten your plan instead of harassing my subordinates.”

“Excuse me?” Her voice was airy, detached.

“Don’t play dumb. Connie keeps bitching about his hamstrings.” 

She smiled blandly and continued to the bottom of the stairs. “I don’t think I’ve ever met Connie.” 

He was silent for a moment, but followed her. “If it’s true that there are other people out there, don’t get any bright ideas about running off.”

“If I do, it’ll have to wait until after this Cult business.”

“I saw that look on your face. You’re the only one crazy enough to try it.”

Suddenly exposed, her skin felt icy like she was back outside in the rain. “So, you think it’s true?” She said it nonchalantly, like the thought had never crossed her mind.

Levi opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it and glanced behind him. That was surprising; he wasn’t one to hesitate. “Maybe. I’m not the one who gets paid to think about it.” He must have some thought on the matter, evidently not for her to know. “Be careful. I’d prefer not to drag your corpse out of a church.”

Katrine sighed. “Fine, I will.” Having lost the battle, she pivoted to the left, retreating not to anywhere specific but away from him. She marched to the first archway and grasped the frame to propel herself out of his presence faster, but out of the corner of her eye saw that he was still standing there, watching her with that probing gaze that could read every emotion that flit across her face. Her steps slowed. He blinked, caught, and with a slight shake of his head climbed back up the stairs. Strange. She must have tracked mud somewhere. But she banished the image and the quiver in the pit of her stomach back to oblivion. There was a plan to form, and first, she needed to find out what a nun wore.

* * *

Mila pulled at her long woolen skirt. “These are so scratchy! Who made them wear these?”

“The priests, obviously. The sight of a bare leg would drive them insane.” Katrine reached to tug at her hair and when she clawed at the empty air, remembered it was coiled atop her head in a tight knot and hidden in a hood, just like the rest of the nuns at the church. Faces scrubbed clean and clad in dull gray, they looked like enormous rats ready for infiltration.

After knocking on the splintered side door, where she’d earlier spied nuns darting in and out, a goateed man answered. The heavy medallions around his neck glinted in the dying sunlight.

“Good evening, Brother, Sister Alison and I have come for cleaning,” Katrine said in a clipped tone, holding up her bucket.

“Who are you? Sister Meredith does the cleaning at this time.” His eyes were mistrusting.

“I’m Sister Rachel. It was a very last-minute switch, and we owed her a favor.”

“Her brother’s ill,” Mila piped up. Katrine bit her tongue and prayed Sister Meredith actually had a brother.

“I see, but she really should have informed me.”

“It was an emergency,” Katrine said.

“It’s bad.” Mila hissed through her teeth. “She thinks he has the sweats.”

The man’s face paled. “Good heavens,” he said, clutching his medallions. “Then you best clean right away.” He stepped aside and waved them in, careful not to touch them, as if they too had the sweats. His narrowed eyes and repulsed tone momentarily reminded her of Levi, and her insecurity fluttered. It was easier to follow whatever he said than figure out everything on her own.

The church was small and cramped, modest in comparison to the splendor of Edelweiss Cathedral. From her position at the door Katrine could immediately see the altar, mismatched pews, and a hallway of closed doors. There were no paintings, only wooden walls that begged for a fresh coat of paint. A dusty window looked out to a courtyard where lines of sheets hung to dry.

“The laundry’s finished. The cart’s out there,” the priest said. She already knew, as that was where she and Mila had purloined their woolens the day before. “And please do not disturb Father Lucian, he is in his office.”

Father Lucian. A figure mentioned by both the letter and the ministers at Edelweiss Cathedral. He must be high-ranking if the Cult spoke of him with such reverence. Obviously there would be interesting things hiding in his office.

“Yes, Brother,” Katrine said, grasping Mila’s arm and starting for the courtyard. “Lies don’t have to be that embellished!” she hissed.

“Sorry!”

The courtyard was crisscrossed with lines of rope, wide white sheets motionless in the unnaturally still air. Katrine watched the windows as she folded the sheets, but the dusty glass and sun’s glare impeded her vision. She wiped a trail of sweat away from her brow and reached for her hair again.

“Fresh faces! I don’t believe I’ve met the two of you before?” The shadow of an enormous man taller than Erwin blocked the dying sunlight. His smile took up half his face, and his gums nearly all that half.

“I’m Sister Alison, and this is Sister Rachel. We’re visiting from Utopia,” Mila said cheerily. Katrine arranged her face into a neutral expression that hopefully didn’t look too unnatural. A drop of rain splattered on her nose, causing her to frown.

“Terrible weather we’ve been having recently. It’ll pour tonight, I can smell it!” The priest guffawed, his face flushing. “Forgive my manners, I’m Father James. Now, Utopia, you say? When I say terrible weather, you’ve certainly experienced worse!”

Katrine held a sheet in front of her face as if to fold it and scowled at him. She noticed a light flickering in one of the smaller windows. It had to be from one of the closed doors.

“Oh, you would not  _ believe _ ! This is nothing compared to Utopia.” Mila cupped a hand to her mouth. “One time, Brother Rolf forgot to take the wine bottles out of the cellars, and they all froze! Father Darius nearly broke one over his head!” The two roared with laughter.

Mila chattered with Father James as Katrine finished folding the sheets and stacked them in the basket. Once the rain began to fall in earnest, Mila got the priest to carry two baskets indoors and a promise to treat her to the best spiced mutton in Trost, without even asking.

“Maybe I was wrong about embellishing,” Katrine said as they strode back to the church’s nave loaded with rags and silver polish.

Mila twisted back to wave to Father James. “Who do you think I learned it from?”

“I don’t embellish.” Katrine noted the single door that had a crack of light at the bottom. However, when she casually rested her hand on the handle and pressed down, it didn’t budge.

There were few silver objects on the altar to polish, so Katrine took her time and walked around looking for clues. No slips of paper hidden in knots in the wood, no carvings on the goblets, nothing. She could always dawdle, but how late could they stay before they were suspicious? She couldn’t think of anything else to clean. Yet another thing Levi would have been much better at.

“Oh, Father Lucian, turning in for the night? Or are you starting back for Mitras?”

Katrine’s eyes darted up from the altar. At the other side of the room a man in a stark white gown stood before the door, turned to the shriveled-faced nun who’d asked the question. The protruding belly indicated he ate well, but the shadows concealed his features.

“I won’t make it to Mitras until tomorrow, not until I finish this missive.” His voice was smooth and untroubled.

“You be careful. I heard there’ve been burglaries in Stohess.”

The man chuckled. “There’s not much of interest here, unless they're looking for my scrawlings on acts of contrition.” 

The nun laughed and wished him a good evening, and Lucian left. Katrine and Mila exchanged a glance, and Katrine motioned to wait until the other nun was gone. “Wait five minutes,” she whispered, setting down her goblet, and began counting the seconds. Mila nodded, her lips tight.

After she determined they were safe, the two picked up their buckets and headed for Lucian’s office. The door opened smoothly and though Katrine poked her head in first, the room was empty.

Everything in the office seemed miniscule in comparison to the enormous painting that hung opposite the door. Despite the weak moonlight, the subject was clear: a massive tree, branches grasping towards a scarlet sky, utterly black except for a hole at the trunk that encased a faint glow of light blue. Katrine rushed inside, searching for the writing she knew would be at the bottom, and found it and a little number two in the corner.

“What is this?” Mila asked.

“The tree of life,” Katrine whispered. She’d never seen anything like it, not even in the forests where the trees stretched up for what felt like forever, ones she’d climbed to the top and gazed down at the world. This one looked like it held the entrance to another dimension.

She forced her eyes to the desk. Remembering what Levi had done, Katrine opened and felt the bottoms of each empty drawer and then knelt to press at the back.

“What are you doing?” Mila whispered.

“If he’s hiding something, it won’t be out in the open.”

“But how do you know it’s down there?”

“People aren’t that creative!”

Mila nodded, wide-eyed and impressed. Katrine’s pride swelled, but deflated when she didn’t find a false back. She scraped at the edges with her fingernails; she must not be pressing hard enough.

“Ah! Excuse me, ladies.” A male voice cut through the silence, sending Mila skittering a few inches backward. Katrine’s fingers immediately tensed into claws.

“Father Lucian!” Mila squeaked. Katrine caught her eye from behind the desk, evidently unseen to Lucian, and frantically motioned for Mila to keep talking. Shifting to her toes, she silently pressed one of the open drawers shut.

“I realized I forgot my book. I certainly didn’t mean to disturb you. But forgive my asking, I don’t believe we’ve met before?” His tone was pleasant, but there was a faint strain behind it. Katrine froze. Why did his voice suddenly sound so familiar?

“We- We’re from Utopia,” Mila said.

“I was not made aware of visitors,” Lucian said. “‘We?’”

“I dropped my rag, Father.” Katrine closed the other drawer, analyzing the cadence of his voice. Yes, she’d heard it before, but where?

“This painting is beautiful!” Mila’s voice was an octave higher. “What’s it mean?”

He was silent for so long that Katrine felt her thighs burn. “The beginning, the natural order.” His groaning footsteps grew closer. Her trembling fingers danced over the wood, making sure everything was in place. Once she could see his boots, she rose to her feet. 

Lucian turned his gaze from the painting to her. A crash of thunder boomed in her ears, though the distant logical part of her mind knew it was barely raining, and the familiar mixture of blistering heat and stinging cold erupted down her arms. He was older and fatter but she knew that face, the high forehead and petulant turn of his mouth, and though then he’d been dressed in an expensive suit and his formerly addled expression was now lucid, she would never forget that face. Even if he went by another name and masqueraded as a holy man, he couldn’t hide the black pits of his eyes and the blood that forever stained his hands.

“Lord Isaac.” It was a wisp of air, her throat strangled by fear. But wait, no. She didn’t have to use that anymore, not eight years later, and not with what he’d done. The grip of her fear fell away and her throat expanded, prepared to scream.

His eyes shifted, turning into deep black slashes. “You-” 

“Isaac!” The name was poison in her mouth. She felt an icy shock of metal in her palm as she snatched up the candlestick on the desk, not by her own volition but controlled by the rage that spread to every inch of her body. How had she not immediately sensed a disturbance in the air, smelled the malevolent odor of sweat and blood, right when she’d stepped foot in the church? 

Katrine lunged forward, dodging his outstretched hands and ignoring Mila’s cry. A sickening vibration surged up her arm as she struck his temple. He crumpled to the floor, a deep gash splitting his forehead. The only pain she felt was the dull sting of the spray of his blood hitting her eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> T/W: sexual assault (tried to keep as non-explicit as possible)

_ Year 825 _

Four days after Katrine’s fifth birthday, the man in the wool suit came to their street. He was tall, with a broad, genial face and crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and she peeked up at him behind her mother’s back after he knocked at their door. There was no reason to be afraid, not when he smiled at her and held out a small sack of coins to her mother. The suit was a beautiful color, something in between navy and violet, much too luxurious to belong in the Underground. Every scrap of clothing she owned was faded and dirty.

Her mother’s voice was oddly clear, too bold for a small woman who normally passed the time sitting in their only chair staring at the stains in the wall. She’d run her hands through her long chestnut hair and whisper pleas and threats to the father Katrine never met, lost somewhere. He wasn’t at the top of the clock tower frozen at half past seven, or under the crumbling archway where the rats congregated. Katrine was running out of places to look.

“Go find him,” her mother said, cold fingers on the back of Katrine’s neck as she pushed her out the door.

“Where?” 

The faraway look in her mother’s eyes returned, gray fogging over the moment of blue clarity. “In the snow.”

The man in the suit gave one curt nod and motioned to Katrine to follow him. His expression had turned stony, like he was already chiding her for rubbing her dirty fingers on him. She trailed behind him as he knocked on other doors, giving the same smile and practiced eye to other girls her age, and after he’d collected two more he led them to the stairwell that ended in a door that refused to open. Katrine knew her father wasn’t there. She’d already checked.

The man withdrew a key from his pocket. “Close your eyes, it’ll be bright.” What did that mean? Katrine kept hers open.

The door swung open and a dazzling rush of light and sound smacked her in the face.

It was like someone had taken the view outside their cracked window and dropped it into a bucket of polish. This was the city that existed above them, the one she’d heard stories about but didn’t quite believe, but it was _ real! _ It was shining, clean, a rush of colors so vibrant she felt her eyes water but forced them open. The air was crisp and cold, fresh, and when she exhaled a tiny puff of air escaped her throat. She gasped, delighted, but the man cleared his throat and guided them past a group of frowning men in tan jackets. She followed him along towering brick buildings, pressing a hand to her mouth to stay silent. Where were the carriages pulled by spotless white horses, the castles with thousands of rooms? She could already see the great blue pane of glass above that her upstairs neighbor described, the one that along with the colossal stone walls protected the city from the giant rats that crawled outside them. 

The man led them inside a brick building that proclaimed “Mitras Company” in gilded letters over the solid wooden doors. It was even more stunning inside. Paintings of women, lips and cheeks flushed red and clad in feathery white dresses, hung on spotless white walls lit by chandeliers dripping golden teardrops and crystals. She wanted to hold one of the crystals in her hand and touch it to her lips to see how it felt, but it was beyond her reach. Footsteps echoed from down the hallway and a man in a similar suit approached them, holding a leather notebook. After the two men exchanged a few quick words, the first man walked out the door and the other swiveled his gaze to them. HIs lips were taut.

“Names?”

The other girls kept their heads down, but Katrine stared right back at him. “It’s Katrine.”

He sighed. “Surname?”

Her mouth dried. She didn’t know. No one had bothered to tell her.

“Hurry up, I don’t care if you make it up.”

“Casimir,” she blurted. _ Casimir’s going to come back once he finds where the snow never melts _, her mother had muttered under her breath enough times that Katrine barely heard her anymore.

“Katrine Casimir.” The man scrawled her name into his ledger. “Next!”

He then pointed them to a room not as opulent as the first but had the most wondrous thing she’d seen yet in a day full of wondrous things: a mirror that stretched from floor to ceiling, covering the entire wall. It was so clear it seemed like she could dip her hand in it and walk right through. The tiny mirror Katrine had at home was spotted and dull, with a deep scratch in the center that made her look like she’d been attacked by an alley cat.

Two young women approached them. One had shiny auburn hair wrapped in a chignon and a perfect oval face. The other was more angular, with high cheekbones and a small pointed chin, but she was so stunning that Katrine couldn’t help staring at her. She’d never seen any women like them before. They were unreal. 

“Look at her! Such beautiful hair. It’s almost white,” the auburn-haired woman said. She crouched down and stroked Katrine’s head, smiling.

The other shook her head, golden locks spilling across her brow. “Her nose is too pointy.”

“She’ll grow into that. No need to be cruel, Cecily.”

Cecily shrugged. “No use being nice, either.” She sauntered off to the mirror and studied her reflection, seemingly irritated with an imperfection Katrine couldn’t see.

The other woman’s smile faltered, but it widened again as she turned to the girls. Strangely, it looked convincing, but did not reach her eyes. “My name is Valeria,” she said. “If you work hard and listen to your instructors, you’ll all be wonderful ballerinas. Please find me if you need anything.” 

_ Ballerina _. The word was foreign but lyrical and flowed out of her mouth like water when she whispered it to herself. Smiling, Katrine turned and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. 

A tiny monster had infiltrated paradise. There was a smudge of grease on her cheek, and the three holes at the bottom of her dress were enormous. She was hideous! She didn’t belong here, not next to these goddesses. They were going to realize their mistake and banish her back to where she belonged! But she couldn’t go back, not to her leaky roof and broken mirror and her mother weeping for someone Katrine didn’t know. She swiped at her face and clawed at her tangled hair, but a slim middle-aged woman swatted her hand away and motioned for the girls to follow her out of the room. She introduced herself as Mrs. Olson, an instructor. She was not stunning like Valeria and Cecily, but smelled clean and faintly herbal.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, though Katrine tried to savor every moment. After a bath in steaming water and food that made everything she’d eaten before taste like sawdust, she joined the hoard of other girls in a cavernous room filled with beds fitted with stiff sheets. The girls appeared to be her age, all skinny and long-limbed. She wondered briefly if they’d come from the same place too, but dismissed the thought. Why think of that when this place was so perfect?

She was nearly unrecognizable to herself, and as the other girls chattered she admired her clean hair that slipped through her fingers. How could it have been the same ratted mess earlier? Maybe she would look like Valeria and Cecily, with luminescent skin and eyes that sparkled like that great expanse of blue.

The bed was heavenly, soft and clean with no errant straw poking into her back. And she had one to herself, big enough that she could roll over twice and not fall off the edge. Better yet, her mother wasn’t there to awaken her in the middle of the night with her mutterings and sobbing. Sighing, Katrine burrowed under the thick blanket and curled her knees to her chest. She was asleep in seconds, her mother and her demand far away.

* * *

Before, Katrine’s purpose was to dig for coins that fell from the slits of light far above her head in the pools of foul water that collected beneath them. Now it was to dance, to embody a leaf fluttering in the wind and kick her leg above her head in a way that had been impossible only months earlier. Day after day she and the other young girls went to class, repeating the same exercises hundreds of times to understand the exact positions to hold their bodies, watching themselves in the massive mirror in the practice room. They were only apprentices, unsteady on their feet and dreaming of starring roles. One day, admirers would throw roses at their feet and the newspapers would write glowing accolades accompanying drawings of their faces.

While the other girls sniveled over sore legs or crumpled under Mrs. Olson’s frown, Katrine found no reason to cry. Yes, her toes cracked and her overextended muscles ached, but it was more than worthwhile. Things happened up here. After lessons she pressed her face against the window overlooking the busiest street and gaped at the people streaming below. Old and young, fat and skinny, tall and short, they all had a certain energy inside them that kept their faces bright and propelled them forward. She imagined lives for them filled with the new things she’d learned: the long-haired man in glasses must be a doctor on his way to a patient, the woman in the thick fur stole an opera singer. Where she was before, the unmentionable place she now understood was dirty and unnatural, faces were sunken and gray and no one moved quickly. It was stagnant.

Katrine did not cry until seven months after the day her mother handed her away, when it snowed for the first time.

Trips outside into Mitras were a rare treat; the Company preferred the younger girls stay inside, lest they frighten someone with their wide-eyed stares and probing hands. It was best to forget old habits and adapt. However, the shoemaker lived on the other side of the river, so Valeria and Cecily chaperoned the girls and shushed them when they got too noisy. Katrine kept her lips pressed together and admired the silver railing of the bridge shaped into crosses. But then a cold pinprick stung her nose and her mouth popped open.

“Snow!” Valeria held up her hands. Katrine and the other girls did the same, transfixed. She watched the tiny white flakes materialize out of nowhere and melt into droplets in her palms. It was magical.

“It’s…” She didn’t know what to ask, how to describe it. This wasn’t noisy rain that sent everyone scattering when it poured. Instead this was silent and everyone paused to look at the stone gray sky, even the carriages. The flurry intensified and soon everything was white: the cobblestone street, the manicured shrubs, the tops of their heads.

“Don’t you know the sky’s falling apart?” Cecily said while pointing upwards, a cruel sneer on her face. “These little flakes will get bigger and crush your bones.” She snickered.

Katrine’s ribs constricted. Snow meant that the sky was breaking? In her hand, little pieces of the sky were collecting and would soon grow so large it would swallow her? 

_ He’s in the snow, where it never melts. _

She gasped and the harsh air tore at her lungs. Her father couldn’t be alive if he went to a place where the snow never melted. He was dead, buried so deeply in pieces of broken sky that no one could find him, and now she was going to die too. Was that why her mother had sent her away, to die alone in the cold? Suddenly dizzy, Katrine fell to her knees. Violent sobs burst from her throat. Her tears soaked into the snow, dark droplets marring the soft white.

“Katrine! What’s wrong?” Valeria knelt beside her, hand on her shoulder, but Katrine didn’t know how to speak. Why would they want to keep her if her own mother hadn’t wanted her? “That was heartless, Cecily, even for you.” She tugged at the pendant dangling from her neck.

Cecily held up her hands. “I didn’t think she’d freak out!”

Katrine coughed and a pathetic string of spittle hung from her mouth. She swiped it away and tried to hide her face from the other girls’ curious stares.

“You need to get back up, Katrine.” Valeria’s tone was soft but stern, and she held her hand up to her cheek. It was warm and Katrine concentrated on that warmth until her breath slowed and her heart stopped pounding. She slowly rose to her feet, legs quivering. 

“I’m taking her back,” Valeria said, taking Katrine’s hand.

Cecily rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me deal with the shoemaker on my own.”

“Poor Cecily!” There was a barb in Valeria’s voice she’d never heard before.

Cecily glared at Katrine with enough venom to make her drop her gaze, and her cheeks burned despite the chill.

Valeria dragged Katrine back to the Mitras Company, walking at a quick pace Katrine could barely match. “What Cecily said isn’t true. Snow’s harmless and it’s not the sky falling down. But you can’t start sobbing whenever someone says something that hurts.” Embarrassed, Katrine bit down hard on her lip until she tasted blood.

She followed Valeria down into the unfamiliar guts of the building, where the brightly lit hallways darkened and marble turned to chipped gray stone. They stopped at an unmarked door. It was one she’d never seen before but also wouldn't think to remember. Valeria knocked first, but when there was no response she opened the door. It was only a closet, bare except for a broom and someone’s abandoned pointe shoes. There was a faintly damp smell to it, one that reminded her of home. No, what used to be home.

“You can’t cry with other people around. You have to smile and hold it back. But here’s where you can be alone,” Valeria said.

Katrine felt the residual sting of her hot cheeks and those embarassing stares. But Valeria was so poised, so calm; why would she need to know where to cry by herself?

“Do you need to stay there for a while?” Valeria asked.

Katrine looked at the frayed ribbon on one of the shoes. She shook her head.

“Good.” Valeria squeezed her hand. Her smile still didn’t reach her eyes.

* * *

Katrine heard Mr. Kaiser’s name invoked and sworn and threatened daily, but did not see his face until two years later.

The ballet master appeared to be an utterly average man. He was not particularly tall, nor short; he looked well-fed but not fat; his hair was not blonde but also not quite brown. He had a cane, glossy and black with a brass handle carved into a swan’s head, but he didn’t have a pronounced limp. The instructors and older ballerinas in the practice room positioned themselves as far away from him as they could, never once crossing his line of sight.

Katrine stood before him with thirty other girls, facing the mirror. Some had arrived before her, some after, but they all stood silently, backs straight. The two she’d come up with were gone; one broke an arm and the other was too slow to memorize steps. With that Katrine felt as if that place, and her mother, were some distant dream.

Mrs. Olson divided them into groups of three and the girls demonstrated what they’d labored over for the past two years, all compacted into a twenty-second series of steps. Mr. Kaiser observed their dancing, expressionless. His hand only moved from the top of his cane to point at one and send her to either his right or left. Occasionally he motioned one forward to repeat an exercise and then made his judgment.

Though unsure of what the division meant, Katrine knew his decision would be important. She’d memorized the steps and save a fall out of a pirouette or holding her arms in the wrong position, hopefully nothing bad would happen. Mrs. Olson always said her footwork was beautiful. Neck long, hands delicate, toes pointed.

When the pianist started the allegro Katrine slipped back into what she’d practiced until her feet bled. Feet beating together in the air, then prancing across the floor, then up in the air again landing in the fourth position. Each step precise, but not too practiced so that it looked artificial. Effortless, but not thoughtless.

Mr. Kaiser remained still, seemingly unimpressed, but then lifted a finger off the smooth brass of his cane to point at Katrine. “Forward.”

She complied, tense. 

“Again,” he said, and when the pianist started she repeated the steps. He raised his chin, just a fraction. She did the same.

He appraised her for a moment, taking in her bruised legs and raised arms. But then his face twisted, suddenly violent like the sky when it turned to a thunderstorm, and his cane swung in a deadly arc to meet the back of her thigh. Pain exploded behind her eyes and she bit down her gasp. _ Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t you dare cry. _ She was so focused on holding back her tears she didn’t flinch when he slammed his cane on the floor.

“You give me that look again and I’ll throw you back in the gutter,” he said. “To the left.”

Silently Katrine joined the others, clenching her teeth to prevent herself from shuddering. She caught a glimpse of an older dancer in the corner biting the edge of her finger, and immediately dropped her gaze. She kept her toes as the only thing in her line of sight, because if Mr. Kaiser saw her looking, she was sure he’d come back and hit her even harder.

Once every girl had danced, Mr. Kaiser announced the ones at his left were to stay and the ones at his right to go, and turned on his heel and was gone. Mrs. Olson gathered up the dismissed girls and guided them out the door. They were silent, like they lacked the energy or courage to protest. Katrine didn’t know where they would go, to somewhere else in Mitras or back to the Underground, but wouldn’t ask lest someone think she was ungrateful.

Cecily, standing with a few older ballerinas, shook her head. “Always a bloodbath,” Katrine heard her mutter.

* * *

Mr. Kaiser hated them all, from the lowliest girls of the corps all the way to the soloists, for differing reasons but with equal intensity. Some tired too easily while others couldn’t leap high enough. He even regarded Valeria with clear distaste, despite being the very best of them. She was weightless, dancing like the only thing inside her was wind that carried her along with the music.

He hated Katrine for her refusal to break. Of course she had to bend when he said so, replace a changement with an entrechat when he thought it went better with the music, and rise up on her toes when he clapped his hands. But she refused to cry or let her face turn blotchy when he struck her like the others when they weren’t light on their feet or quivered in their arabesques or fell out of pirouettes. It had taken her three years after that encounter to realize that she would have to be better than anyone else to never be touched again. She wasn’t going to be led out of the practice room to be thrown back in the trash. So she spent herself every class, did ten fouettes while the others did eight, and ground herself into the hard wooden floors in pursuit of perfection. She stifled her anger, sharpening it into a knife when Mr. Kaiser touched her ankle with the tip of his cane to move her leg up or, failing that, guided it with his own hand. His face always screwed up like he was tasting something bitter, like he could still smell the Underground on her. That anger propelled her, left her panting and barely able to walk, but she moved further and further ahead to the front of the line of girls at the barre, where the very best were on display to the entire class.

The first role came at the age of ten. It was minor, only strewing flower petals onstage in celebration for the Crane Queen’s arrival, but it was an achievement. Katrine didn’t even care that she shared it with another, Josephine, whom Mr. Kaiser loathed for her common face but her footwork was too swift and precise to ignore.

The day of the premiere, the dancers flocked to the antechamber behind the stage, separated by a thick velvet curtain trimmed with gold tassels. Silver leaves and vines were carved into the walls, twisting around the barre and continuing up to the ceiling painted blue with puffs of clouds. It was much more ornate than the normal practice room; Katrine assumed it was because the beauty would distract the dancers. Valeria told her and Josephine to stay put in the corner behind the flimsy muslin curtain fashioned for changing and applying makeup, and flitted off to the barre where the older dancers stretched their legs. Momentarily annoyed, Katrine was soon distracted again by her fluffy white costume. She couldn’t stop staring at herself in the mirror, twirling in her skirt and watching the light reflect off the silver threads woven into the fabric. She looked even prettier than the girls she saw outside, clad in velvet dresses trimmed with fur, holding their fathers’ hands.

She saw out of the corner of her eye a flash of blue. That was Valeria, the Crane Queen, today the most beautiful person in Mitras or even in all the Walls. Her dress was ethereal, cut to show her collarbones and the delicate line of her ankles. She’d just demonstrated an arabesque for Mr. Kaiser, and brought her leg down, giggling. Katrine’s eyes narrowed. No, that was wrong, that wasn’t Mr. Kaiser. It was an unfamiliar man dressed in black, mouth obscured by a thick mustache, his hand on Valeria’s cheek. Who was that? Suddenly more appeared when the dancers shifted and moved, like smudges of soot on white. Katrine turned to Josephine, absorbed in tying and re-tying her slippers. “Who’re they?” she asked, and nudged her when she didn’t respond.

“Ow! Who?”

“Those people out there. The show hasn’t started yet.”

Josephine shrugged. “Dunno. But I heard Eloise puking a few minutes ago!”

Katrine ignored her and stepped forward to see the man’s face. She watched him, who didn’t know she existed, eye Valeria like the matted tomcat that prowled in the dark alleyways of the Underground, waking her with his yowling.

Suddenly there was a tug at her hair, and she was yanked backwards.

“Get your grubby little feet back in the corner,” Cecily hissed. The magnificent headpiece that turned her into a malicious fox only enhanced her cruel beauty, her teeth glinting and lips stained red.

Katrine shrank. “But there’s a bunch of people out there.” She suddenly realized not people, but _ men _\- the only women in the antechamber were the ballerinas.

Cecily’s face, already hard marble, turned even more brittle. “Patrons,” she spat. “Ignore them.” 

“Why?”

“Don’t talk back.” Cecily pinched her cheek and the pain was sharp. She strode to the velvet curtain and multiple sets of eyes followed her. Katrine rubbed her face and tried to find the man again, but Valeria was instead speaking to Mr. Kaiser, his voice loud enough for her to hear.

“Did you tell them if they trip even once, they’re gone?” He pointed in Katrine’s direction but didn’t break his gaze.

“Yes, Mr. Kaiser.” But Valeria hadn’t; the lie was smooth and natural.

He tapped his cane twice and all the dancers rushed forward, and a few minutes later the orchestra started.

Katrine spent all of twenty seconds onstage. The audience gave little reaction to the three grand jetes she’d spent the last month perfecting. They, and Katrine herself, were waiting for the star to arrive.

And then she did. Valeria materialized to a swell of gasps and whispers, and from her place behind the curtain Katrine noticed the audience sitting up straighter in their seats. But then her eyes darted back to Valeria, absorbing every move. One moment she floated, perched on one toe, arms hovering above her; the next she flew, gossamer fabric trailing behind her. Thousands of eyes, Katrine’s included, all transfixed by this woman who for five brief minutes ascended into another realm, transformed into an otherworldly spirit with a brilliant diamond crown nestled in her hair. She was perfect, magnificent, flawless. Katrine thought that Mr. Kaiser would fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness for all the times he called Valeria worthless and poked her stomach with his cane.

When Valeria slipped offstage and a quartet took her place, Katrine turned and continued to watch her. She kept the crown in her hair, but untied her skirt and handed it to another girl who draped it carefully over the barre. With only her bodice and a nude slip, Valeria was no longer ethereal, but decidedly human. There was a gleam of sweat on her bare legs that Katrine hadn’t noticed on the stage and little strands of hair escaping her bun. The man from before approached her and said something to her. Why was he backstage? He should have been in the audience, watching her bloom into a creature that only existed in storybooks. Here, she was naked and vulnerable.

The man touched Valeria’s neck and she laughed, fanning her flushed face. The magic was gone and Katrine felt disappointed for a reason she couldn’t articulate. 

* * *

Katrine constantly daydreamed about that night. In class she imagined herself as the Crane Queen, all eyes on her and straining to capture her every move. She was going to be flawless too, and they would throw roses onstage and wax poetic about her grace and skill. Occasionally the strange incident backstage seeped into her fantasy and soured it, but she forced her mind back to that glittering diamond crown and how beautiful it would look on her head.

When she’d mastered difficult skills and Mr. Kaiser had fewer reasons to smack her thigh, he assigned harder ones, and that meant graduating to pointework. It required special shoes, ones reinforced so she could balance on the tips of her toes and appear weightless. He ordered Cecily to take her to the shoemaker’s, to which she agreed with a quick nod, but when they walked outside she pinched Katrine’s ear and grumbled that the entire thing was a waste of her time.

“Why does Mr. Kaiser teach us if he hates us so much?” Katrine asked.

Cecily scoffed. “He probably gets some kind of perverse pleasure out of it. He’s been here for twenty years, that’s the only explanation. All men do, Katrine, remember that.” She bent over to shove her face in Katrine’s, her grin wolfish. “Even the shoemaker! Be careful, don’t let him touch your feet too much!”

Katrine gulped. “So those patrons, they have it too?” 

Cecily tensed for a moment, but then sighed. “I told you to ignore them.”

“But they’re always there.”

“Better to not know.”

“But why not?”

Cecily’s hand lashed out and yanked Katrine’s braid. “Shouldn’t you know by now that girls who talk back get smacked?” Her tone was final and Katrine bit her tongue. 

Before they made it to the shoemaker, Cecily stopped at a newsstand. Katrine didn’t understand why she chose the crowded one when they’d passed two others, but squinted to read the tiny letters. Cecily nudged her and bent to whisper in her ear. “Keep an eye out.”

Katrine looked up to ask why, but Cecily had already turned to a group of men in suits standing near them, huddled around a newspaper. They were completely absorbed and didn’t turn when Cecily hovered near them. With a practiced hand, Cecily eyed the headlines while her arm inched towards one of them and slowly extracted a billfold from his back pocket. Katrine’s gaze darted from her to the seller, anticipating him turning around and catching Cecily, but when he did she was standing with her arms folded, the picture of innocence.

Cecily held her newspaper to her face until they turned the corner, but then tucked it under her arm and counted the bills. She nodded in satisfaction and peeled out one and handed it to Katrine. “Here’s your share. Don’t spend it all at once.”

“But why? Do you know him?”

“Because he deserved it. Quit it with the questions, you’re giving me a headache. And if you tell anyone I’ll chop your hair off.”

“Okay.” Katrine immediately thought of the puff pastries at the baker’s down the street and licked her lips. As they continued to the shoemaker’s, she pointed at an older woman dressed in a burgundy silk dress, rubies sparkling at her neck. “She probably has even more!”

“No.”

“Why?”

“What did I just say about the questions? Give it back,” she snapped, grabbing at the money in Katrine’s hands.

“No!” Katrine shoved it in her pocket and scowled.

Cecily raised an eyebrow. “Forgot you had some fire in you. Don’t let it burn you.”

They went to the shoemaker who had kind eyes though Katrine flinched every time he touched her feet with his clammy hands. Cecily lounged in the corner, reading her newspaper and making faces at Katrine every time the shoemaker looked away.

When they returned Cecily let Katrine take her newspaper to look at the pictures, which was unusually kind, but Katrine didn’t want to press her luck by pointing it out. Afterwards when she wandered down the hallway to return it, she wondered if Cecily was so pleased with her assistance today that she’d congratulate her on figuring out what the word “expedition” meant instead of shrugging in annoyance. That might be wishful thinking, though.

“I have citizenship. I can go wherever I want, and I don’t want to be here anymore.” Cecily’s shrill tone sent a metallic chill down her back. Katrine flattened herself against the wall, exhaling slowly. 

“There’s still time. They’d find you a doctor. It’s not worth it.” Valeria’s voice was lower, barely audible from behind the closed door. Katrine pressed her ear against it.

“_ She _, not it.”

“How do you know? You’re not showing.”

“Don’t you think I’d know?”

“That’s not the point!” Valeria’s voice rose, desperate. “This place has guaranteed food, and a roof over your head. Remember when you didn’t have that?”

“This place is nowhere near guaranteed. And I found that.”

“Where?”

“The Church has housing. For unwed mothers.”

An exasperated sigh. “So you want to become one of them? Next time I see you, you’re going to be shouting that if you touch the Walls, it’ll cure illnesses? And what am I going to tell everyone?”

“I don’t know. But I can’t let them see me like this.” A chair scraped and Katrine darted away. If Cecily found her eavesdropping, she would get much worse than a pinch of the cheek. Uncertain of what she’d heard, she reread every page of the newspaper, muttering the unfamiliar words to herself.

The next day Cecily was gone. With audible disgust Mr. Kaiser announced that any woman could be a mother but only a select few could be dancers, and with that it was as if she had never existed. Later when Josephine needled Valeria for details, she was met with a thunderous glare, and no one spoke of it again until six months later when a letter arrived for Valeria.

“Katrine, do you have anything you can spare? The corps’ allowance is paltry, I know, but it’s very important.” Valeria’s voice was light, but her fingers clenched the letter so tightly deep creases appeared. Two older dancers observed the proceedings, arms folded. Their expressions were unsympathetic.

“I don’t know why she’d keep it. There are doctors for that,” one said.

The other shook her head. “She’s unlucky. Lord Charles certainly won’t pay for it.”

Katrine frowned. She’d been looking forward to that monthly allowance; it meant a new hair ribbon or an eclair. But Valeria’s smile was beginning to tremble so she pulled out the three coins in her little brown pouch and handed them over. At the same time, she tried to make out the words scrawled in Cecily’s messy script. _ Wall Sina? Liars? _

“Thank you,” Valeria said, and wrapped her arms around her. She could feel a few wet drops on her shoulder, but she hadn’t seen the tears in Valeria’s eyes.

Three weeks later someone found Cecily’s brief obituary in the newspaper, her death evidently from childbirth. Irene declared that her patron told her a woman matching Cecily’s description was seen running through Stohess, blood pouring from her womb. Eva said that the baby had come out deformed and shaped like a lizard, apt for someone who spoke such bitter words. Valeria said nothing, but afterwards her plump, rosy cheeks slowly flattened and shadows stained the hollows beneath her eyes.

Katrine wondered if Cecily had made it to practice on time and tried harder to be perfect, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. She started going to classes a half hour earlier.

* * *

Katrine sat with her knees pulled to her chest in the closet, pressing her aching feet to the cold stone floor and fruitlessly attempting to stifle her panic. 

The ballet for this season was _ Scenes of Pastoral Life _, a series of vignettes depicting a village by a river outside Wall Rose. It was all very romantic and gallant, and when she’d cast her eyes out to the audience there were few dry eyes, but there was a sense of falseness she couldn’t shake off. Nobody was going to choreograph a ballet about the Underground.

Though Katrine had danced the ballet before, it was only in a group. This time when the list of roles was posted she was surprised to find her name listed beside the part of Giselle. Giselle was a peasant girl whose heroic lover insisted on venturing into the woods to defeat the Titan that roamed the forests, but was mortally wounded. Though Giselle ran after him and stumbled upon the dying man, the Titan, deeply moved by their love, left the village alone. Katrine wasn’t certain if Titans really did that. All she knew came from the garish drawings in the newspapers and the scary stories Cecily had told them when they were too noisy after bedtime.

This was a major role, one she’d watched Valeria perform, and many of the older dancers whispered that she was too young. But her legs were strong and she’d taken well to pointe work. The choreography came to her easily and she leapt higher and faster.

But it was all wrong, Mr. Kaiser said while his little mustache quivered, a signal his cane was going to hit a limb instead of the floor. She looked emotionless, unfeeling, and her face made him want to slap something. He said nothing about her technique, so that wasn’t the problem. “I don’t _ feel _anything!” he complained.

So first she asked Valeria, who told her to make her steps lighter and act like she’d just lost her favorite ribbon, which Mr. Kaiser immediately deemed too girlish. Since Cecily was not there, Katrine had to imagine her advice and thought to narrow her eyes and pout. Mr. Kaiser said that the two cats yowling outside were more believable as lovers than her and Abraham, her wiry male partner. Abraham inspired more jealousy in her than great passion. Mr. Kaiser never thwacked him with his cane, and he didn’t have to press all his weight on the tips of his toes or worry about being dropped when lifted in the air.

Then she remembered Valeria backstage after _ The Crane Queen _, fluttering her eyelashes to that man whom she now knew was an advisor to the king. She twirled and flounced her skirt, and then brought a hand to her mouth like she was hiding some great secret.

“Stop, stop!” Mr. Kaiser raised his cane and Katrine immediately stepped back. “You will not be a whore on my stage!” She’d never heard that word before. It sounded foul and horrible.

Mr. Kaiser barked at Katrine to take a half-hour break, then muttered to another instructor that he may have made a giant mistake, that she wasn’t ready and might never be, and thank the heavens above he hadn’t wasted citizenship papers on her. She rushed down the stairs and through the corridor and burst into the closet as her throat swelled shut and the tears streamed down her face.

Though Mr. Kaiser warned of sending girls back to the Underground, and more than a few were at class one day and gone the next, he’d rarely turned his threats to Katrine since that first day. She thought she’d made herself perfect enough to avoid his insults and his cane, but this clearly wasn’t. What if this was it, the moment of failure that meant all her time in Mitras was worthless, and she’d go back to the Underground to scrounge for food that would no longer be waiting for her in the morning? Would her mother turn those dull eyes to her, or even recognize her? Was she even alive at all?

She hadn’t thought much of her mother. All she’d done was wilt in her chair, twisting her fingers together until they were raw, repeating her father’s name over and over. Katrine studied her own hand, letting it hover and sink. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and drew out every feature of her mother’s face buried in dust in the back of her mind.

When Katrine returned to the practice room she kept her tears just hovering behind her eyes and let her fingers tremble with barely-contained panic. Rising to her toes she forgot her timing, forgot to count the steps and the seconds like she always did, and had a tenuous hold on the pattern of the music coming from the pianist. Not seeing Abraham but only a gauzy figure receding into the snow, Katrine extended her hand to him, needing and desperate, and when he circled her just out of reach she brought her tense, clawed hands to her bun and tore at the strands.

“Yes! He’s leaving you, Katrine, he doesn’t want you!” Mr. Kaiser’s voice ripped through her trance, leaving a trail of hatred in its wake. But he was right. Her father hadn’t wanted her mother, and her mother hadn’t wanted her. She spun faster, frantically, and leapt so high in hopes she might come down like the falling snow. But she wasn’t that, not what her father wanted.

The music stopped and when silence settled over the room, Katrine realized she had finished without any criticism. She dropped to her heels, panting and drained, fearful she didn’t have enough energy to swallow back the sob clawing at her lungs. If this was the pain her mother felt every day, so severe it left her despondent and mute, then she’d have to get even better, so perfect that Mr. Kaiser wouldn’t even consider dismissing her. She was not going back there to drown.

Her eyes met Mr. Kaiser’s and she was shocked to find them gleaming above a wolfish smile. She’d never seen him smile before. It was grotesque.

“Beautiful,” one of the instructors said, not to her but to Mr. Kaiser.

“A genius,” another said.

“Yes, yes,” Mr. Kaiser said, breath thick in his mouth like he’d been the one dancing. “Another gutter rat turned into a rose.”

* * *

The night of the premiere, Katrine sat before the mirror behind the muslin curtain, pleased with herself. She was a magnificent peasant girl, no matter that she’d never seen one. She was not nervous. She was ready to dazzle them all. Behind her, Valeria knotted Katrine’s hair into a chignon that was easy to tear out in a fit of despair. Katrine dabbed rouge from a little golden pot onto her cheeks and her lips. She looked fresh and dewy, like she hadn’t ground her feet into the floor for hours the day before.

Valeria sat on the bench next to her and gazed at the curtain separating them from the antechamber, where the other dancers stretched their legs and the ever-present onlookers watched them. She picked at her nails and bounced her knee, odd for someone who’d danced onstage more times than Katrine could count. But right as Katrine moved to set down the rouge Valeria swiveled and clamped an icy hand on her knee, causing the pot to clatter to the floor.

“You have to remember that the person onstage isn’t you. And neither is the person that those men see, or Mr. Kaiser sees, or even I see.”

“Right,” Katrine said, admiring the way the blue ribbon at her neck accentuated her eyes.

“Katrine! Listen to me.” There was more force in her hand than anything she’d done in class that month. She pointed at Katrine’s reflection in the mirror and Katrine looked at her eyes, green and resolute. “That person, the performer, let everyone look at and fawn over her. But keep her separate from here.” She tapped Katrine’s chest, her fingernail scraping her exposed skin like a knife. “You keep her safe, and don’t show her to anyone.”

Katrine watched her own eyes narrow in the mirror. “What do you mean?”

Mr. Kaiser’s cane rapped against the floor and Valeria stood. “I hope you’re ready,” she said, and her lip quivered. But then her face was calm and pleasant again, and she walked out into the antechamber. She greeted one of the men, posing a question to him in a coquettish tone, and deep laughter followed. Katrine frowned as she picked up the rouge. Of course she was ready. Valeria had seen her practice.

Katrine was to dance in the third scene, but she wanted to peek behind the velvet curtain to see the first two. She was old enough to do that now, no longer a little girl banished to the corner until it was her turn. She stood and straightened, elongating her neck like Mr. Kaiser said, and after admiring her reflection one last time, she swept the muslin curtain aside and stepped into the light.

The antechamber was crowded with dancers and their admirers gulping wine but they all took notice of her entrance, and a few conversations lulled. Trying to look mature, she pursed her lips to hide her triumph. _ Perfect! _ They were going to gape at her like they did for Valeria, as if she were air brought to life. 

But while the dancers shrugged and returned to their stretching, the men’s surprise curdled into indulgent smiles, the ones given to amusing little dogs yipping for treats. They weren’t supposed to do that. They were supposed to be in awe of her, like she could burn them if they got too close. Her shoulders curled forward and the hair on her arms stood straight up.

“A new face,” one said. His companion responded in a tone too deep for her to hear, and they chuckled. What could be so funny? Katrine quickened her steps. They were grinning at her the same way Cecily did when she caught her doing something bad. Their eyes scraped across her skin while their fingers clasped cigars and other dancer’s arms. Josephine’s gossip echoed in her head. _ Cassandra said she gets paid to let them look at her bare feet! _

Someone cleared his throat behind her, and Katrine felt the ribbon around her neck suddenly tighten. 

“So you’re our new Giselle! So skilled for only fourteen.” The man towered over her, his head bald and shiny like a new coin, but his beard was overgrown in comparison. It looked like someone had put his head on wrong. The question of how he knew that bubbled up her throat, but her lips refused to open.

“I apologize, I’m distracting you. But I promise I’ll see you afterwards,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. Even though it was covered by fabric, she thought she could feel every bone in his hand. Forcing herself to smile, she nodded and rushed away to hide behind the velvet curtain. She caught a glimpse of her pointe shoes and imagined the man handing her a coin so she would untie them, and quickly shoved that thought away, replacing it with the steps and the things she’d done to make Mr. Kaiser nod in satisfaction instead of bellow with rage.

The tempo of the orchestra shifted and the stage was hers. She twirled out from behind the curtain, six entrechats all in perfect timing to the center stage, and extended her arm to Abraham but really to the audience, ready to amaze them with her skill-

There was nothing, only a cavernous well of black. 

How was that possible, when she had seen them from behind the curtain? Where were the thousands of eyes glued to her and her alone? They’d all left, because she wasn’t worth watching! All her muscles seemed to melt and her toe skidded across the overbuffed wooden floor, too far to the left. The music refused to reach inside her to lift her up and let her float across the floor. She forced her leaden arms upwards and focused on Abraham, hoping to tether herself to something real, but his normally brown eyes were scorched black and unfeeling, too. He knew that she was failing, knew that Mr. Kaiser was going to thwack her in the face with his cane and banish her to the Underground and forget that she’d ever existed. And when another dancer barged onstage dressed in that horrifying Titan costume, sharp fangs protruding from his mask, he seemed so real and ready to eat her that a deep shudder nearly knocked her off her pirouette.

The rest of the act continued in a blur, shifting back and forth from hazy to sharp blinding focus, and the music sped up and slowed down so that she was never on tempo, bewildered by the screech of violins and stuffy, foggy air and the makeup turning to liquid on her sweaty face. When the act was finished and she careened off the stage and behind the curtain, she was shocked that the entire auditorium hadn’t crashed to a pile of rubble to bury her alive, because it was so horrible and that was what she deserved.

A hand rested on her shoulder, pressing the damp cold fabric of her dress to her skin, and goosebumps erupted. There was a ring on his little finger, a deep gold with a bloody red ruby at the center, gazing at her like an unblinking eye.

“Enchanting, utterly enchanting! I could see the pain written so clearly on your face!” It was the man from before. Somehow he’d grown even taller since then, taller than the Titan prowling onstage. “Forgive me, I never told you my name,” he continued. “I’m Julian. I’d hoped for years you’d make it to the stage as a soloist, but I shouldn’t have worried! I should have never doubted Emile. Come, come, my carriage is outside.”

The ballet wasn’t over, she couldn't just leave; she’d wanted to watch Valeria. Mr. Kaiser would kill her if she left. And who was Emile? “But Mr. Kaiser-”

Julian laughed. “Oh, no need to worry!” He beckoned her towards the stairs that she’d seen the black-suited men lumber up and down, the gem on his ring winking at her. Katrine’s eyes darted around the antechamber, desperate for anyone to tell her what to do, but the dancers were either engaged in their own conversations or pressing their limbs to the floor. None of them looked at her.

She let him lead her down the stairwell to his carriage. It was enormous, three times as big as her bed, and she made herself small on the cushioned seat. While he prattled on about the weather and how the cold snap had ruined his apple orchard, Katrine watched his shiny lips move and wondered dimly how she was supposed to get back. Valeria was going to be cross with her for not changing out of her costume.

By the time they reached Julian’s mansion, the sky had turned black and she could see the glittering chandeliers and marble columns through its lit windows, but the house itself was a looming shadow and the dense hedges were great walls ready to trap her. Julian strode inside, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the back of a chair where a servant waited to pick it up. He too refused to meet her watering eyes and vanished. Julian took Katrine’s hand, his clammy palm swallowing hers, and led her further into the guts of the house where she instinctively knew it was improper for guests to go. His steps sent vibrations through the floorboards that shot up her own legs and deep into the marrow of her bones. Her feet, which she loved for moving so effortlessly when she demanded them, refused to listen to her silent pleas to flee.

They stopped at a bedroom draped in velvet, the same bloody red as his ring, with a bed so large Katrine was certain every Mitras Company ballerina could fit on it. But as soon as that thought left her head he pushed her towards it, pinning her against it. A tiny yelp squeaked out her mouth. 

“I only wanted to look at you,” he said in a soothing voice that didn’t match the toothy smile cracking open his face. His finger trailed across her collarbone, the same place Valeria had touched a lifetime ago and in a swift motion yanked at the tie holding the dress around her neck. It floated to the floor, landing in a puddle at her feet.

“You’re so beautiful, it drives me absolutely mad.” He pressed a thumb to her lips, and then pushed her on the bed, flat on her back.

Afterwards he rolled over and promptly fell asleep. Without ever taking her eyes off him, Katrine leaned over the side of the bed and fumbled for her dress, and when she found it yanked it on so fast she popped a stitch in the side. Then she hugged her knees to her chest, trying to squeeze her lungs shut so the heaving scream thrashing inside her wouldn’t escape.

Everything hurt, everything, from her shaking hands to her feet and then back again to the agony burrowing itself deep in her core. She pressed her face to her knees and bit down hard on her lip to stop the raging panic, pain that was even worse than the paralyzing fear she felt while crushed under his weight. In flashes her skin turned from blistering to freezing, like the time she got sick and Valeria was there to press cold rags to her forehead and whisper soothing words in her ear. But no one was here to do that.

Unblinking, she eyed him splayed across the bed, snoring. She searched his face for signs that revealed his malice, a scar or ugly mole that hinted at his wickedness, any way that she should have known, because _ she should have known! _ How could she be so stupid to follow him out the door and right into his bed? Memories of Cecily shoving her behind that muslin curtain and Valeria’s odd words flooded back to her. It was so obvious! She and the rest of the ballerinas were on display, waiting like the little sugared macaroons at the baker’s to be plucked up and savored in someone’s mouth before dissolving and disappearing into his gut, obliterated.

Her stinging eyes watered and she swiped at them, refusing to cry. What was she supposed to do now? Sleep? How could she sleep with this monster next to her, able to drag her out of her dreams if he chose?

Wrapping a blanket around her bare shoulders, Katrine slipped off the bed and padded to the large blue chair by the window, needing a perch to watch him from afar. But in the faint light she noticed a doorway leading into another room, and she tiptoed inside, wondering what else this man had in his enormous house. Best to be prepared for whatever it was.

It was an alcove filled with books, stuffing the shelves that towered all the way to the ceiling, so many books it would be impossible to read them all in a lifetime. Relief washed over her and her tears finally fell. She’d prepared herself to find a room full of canes, ones with spikes and blades to pierce her skin and break her bones. She pulled a book at random, thin and unintimidating with a dark blue cover, and brought it over to the chair. She tucked her feet under her and methodically absorbed the words, looking up to check on Julian every time she turned a page. He didn’t stir until sunlight flooded the room, and then she shoved the book under the chair and dashed back to the bed, pretending she’d been there the whole time.

Julian turned to her and smiled. “I’ve awoken to find the most beautiful peasant girl in my bed! My Katrine,” he said, extending one hand to her.

She hated the way his mouth formed her name, hated that he addressed her like a pet dog, and only that thought of hatred let her endure the heat of his fingers without flinching.

“Did you sleep well?”

Her throat constricted. She nodded.

He only chuckled. “You’re so shy. I left you a trinket in the dish on the fireplace, let me see it on you before you go.”

Katrine slid off the bed and found the ceramic dish. It held a necklace, a tear-shaped sapphire, similar to ones she’d seen in shop windows but could only dream of affording. But now it looked dull and tarnished in the dim morning light.

“I wanted it to go with your lovely blue eyes. Promise me you’ll wear it next time,” he said.

How had he known the color of her eyes? And that there’d be a next time?

He raised his eyebrows, expecting a reply, so Katrine smiled. “Yes, Lord Julian,” she said sweetly, remembering how she’d heard the other girls address the patrons. Satisfied, he called for a servant, and the leathery old man from before wordlessly led her to the carriage. During the ride home, she glared at the back of the driver’s head and recited the unfamiliar words from the book, flowers and plants she’d never seen before. _ Chrysanthemum, aster, sedum, edelweiss... _

When she spotted the familiar brick facade, she slammed the door open and rolled out of the still-moving carriage, scraping her knee and tearing her dress, and sprinted towards the building, ignoring the angry shouts from the driver. Someone was sitting on the stairs, and when Katrine saw red hair, rage bubbled up and she skidded to a halt.

“You _ knew! _”

Valeria stood, knitting her fingers together. “I did, and I’m sorry, but-”

“You knew and you said nothing! None of you did! I asked Cecily and she brushed me off, and then you were right there and all you did was speak in riddles! You let me-” Her throat constricted painfully, like Julian’s hands were on her again and strangling her.

“I’m sorry,” Valeria whispered.

“No, you’re not! At least Mr. Kaiser warns us before he’s going to hit us! And this was worse!”

Valeria’s arm shot forward, snatching her wrist, and Katrine flinched. Her teeth flashed behind pale lips. “Do you know what would happen if we told you? You’d get nervous. You wouldn’t be able to concentrate. And then your stumbles turn into falls and you’re out the door. Do you think we’re letting you go back down there?” She jabbed a finger at the ground. “Those patrons, they pay for all this. They pay for lessons, for our shoes and our costumes, for our food and beds. And that doesn’t come out of the goodness of their hearts. They want an exchange, a distraction from their wives and businesses and a bit of pleasure. It’s worth it. To me, at least.” She sighed and shook her head. “For some people it’s not.”

Katrine’s hatred dried up and all that was left was a gaping wound inside her that she didn’t know how to fill. But it wasn’t like hunger. Down there she’d been hungry and dirty; now she was just dirty. 

“I’ve been waiting for you. To give you this.” She handed Katrine a yellow piece of paper folded into quarters. Katrine unfolded it and scanned through the dense lines. Her name was written in clear letters at the top. “It’s your citizenship papers.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means he can’t send you back.”

Her fingers slackened and the paper nearly slipped out her hands. She wasn’t going back, wasn’t going to sit in garbage staring at the wall waiting for someone to come home whose face she’d never seen. The ragged hole in her gut softened a bit. But then guilt and rage roared back up and tore it wider.

“You did very well. They all said they’d never seen anyone dance Giselle with such passion,” Valeria said.

Katrine didn’t believe her. If she’d been as good as she said, then Julian wouldn’t have dared to touch her. None of them would.

“Please know, there was nothing you could do.” There was that false smile on her lips again; her eyes were too melancholy. “Practice starts at noon,” she said, despite the fact that Katrine had never been late for practice, and walked back up the steps.

But there was something she could do. There had to be. She should have bit his thumb, shoved him off her and screamed. She’d work harder in classes, be so perfect that her mere presence would terrify them. And what an ugly necklace! Why would she ever want to wear something shaped like a tear, to remind her of the ones she’d cried? She yanked at the stone, snapping the fragile silver chain, and threw it at a grate to drown in the filth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I loosely based Katrine’s backstory on French ballet in the 1800s - here’s a good article if you’re interested in learning more: <https://www.history.com/news/sexual-exploitation-was-the-norm-for-19th-century-ballerinas>


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: references/discussion of sexual assault, violence

Year 838

Throwing that necklace through the grates was a stupid idea. It would have sold well, and then Katrine could have bought herself something that didn’t stink of someone else’s fingers. 

Everything stank now, like sweat and musk and rotted meat. Her costumes smelled, the air in the antechamber choking. Wafts of the stench floated up and tickled her nose when she lay awake huddled under her blanket on a night off. The anticipation of their clammy hands dragging down her back sent a thousand tiny needles erupting across her skin. It was like rats scuttling up and down her arms, the same ones she saw zipping through the alleyways when she made it back to the Mitras Company so early in the morning the sky was still inky.

Lord Julian eventually lost interest, as he inevitably did when someone younger came along, but there were others to take his place. There were advisors and bankers and lieutenants, some not even twenty and others so old their shoulders bowed. Some were there long enough for her to learn their names and what books they kept in their palatial homes, and others vanished before she saw their faces hovering behind her closed eyes. Unlucky ballerinas left when they injured themselves or failed to fulfill Mr. Kaiser’s expectations; the fortunate ones were chosen for marriage. Katrine tried not to think about what would happen when she left, too, so she distracted herself with their books and recited the words to herself when she couldn’t bear the anticipation of their touch.

There were books about mountains that pierced the clouds and spit liquid fire. There were biographies of kings and grain records from ten years past. But her favorites were the ones on winged creatures, hummingbirds and swans and hawks that scraped the skies. She traced diagrams of butterflies owned by the brigadier general of the Military Police, purples and reds so vivid she thought she’d find ink staining her fingers. Some were purposefully so flamboyant that no one dared eat them. They displayed their venom and screamed not to touch them. They looked so perfect, so startling, that it was impossible to tear her eyes away.

So she stood at the barre in the antechamber before performances, glaring at her reflection in the mirror, swinging her leg back and forth to ward off conversations. The patrons, smiling and laughing and spilling their coins on the floor, had their favorites. She was determined to be no one’s favorite. They looked at her with curious eyes, and though some never approached her, there was little she could do when one decided to be bold enough to speak to her. All she could do then was imagine biting his fingers off, but she never had the courage to do it. A weak strategy, but it was better than nothing. 

In practice on a chilly winter morning, Katrine kept half her focus on the steps and planned where she’d go next in Mitras as she and the others hurled themselves through another rehearsal of the  _ Firebird _ . Citizenship did have its perks. It allowed her to leave the Company during the day and at night if a patron requested it, and Katrine wanted to know every detail of the city. She often watched the carriages enter and exit the gates and the soldiers that greeted them. She could just walk out, but to where?

They surrounded Valeria, arms raised above her head and the light illuminating her face, expressionless. There was what looked like an entire pot of rouge rubbed in her cheeks, but it wasn’t enough to mask the hollows under her cheekbones and the sunken pits of her eyes. She was the only one skilled enough to play the Firebird, but Mr. Kaiser lamented that the scarlet costume made her look ghastly.

Katrine dropped to one knee and swept her arms out, waiting for Valeria to complete her grand jeté and clasp her hand. What could she do if she left? All she was good at was flying through the air and letting someone catch her and pin her down under his weight.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Valeira’s toe slip out from under her. There were only two possibilities: for her to catch herself and they’d all shudder in relief, or the sickening thud and thick silence afterwards. Katrine knew before Valeria even hit the floor it would be the latter.

Valeria must have been so light that the floor didn’t vibrate when she collapsed, but Katrine still felt the faint touch of her fingers on her palm. She uttered no sound, and Katrine heard only the crack of bone and the groan of the wooden floorboards. A pool of blood trickled from her ankle, a glistening splinter protruding from her pale skin. Katrine’s stomach twisted and she forced herself to look at Valeria’s face. Her eyes were closed, a faint smile on her pale lips. She looked serene. 

Katrine’s gaze darted to Mr. Kaiser, though he had not moved. His expression was waxen. Then his eyes turned to her and she saw what could either be horror or cold calculations flashing behind them. 

“Doctor, now,” he said, pointing to an instructor, and grasping his cane in his hand like a baton he strode out of the room.

The room erupted. The dancers shrieked and sobbed and clasped each other’s hands. Someone shook Valeria’s shoulder, choking on tears. Valeria made no reaction. 

Katrine barely heard them, frozen. Instead Cecily’s voice echoed in her head.  _ I don’t want them to see me like this _ .

“Stop looking!” Katrine burst to life and grabbed at random arms and shoulders, pushing the younger girls back towards the door. She found Josephine, gaping and wide-eyed, and shook her. “Help me, get them out of here!” Josephine nodded dumbly.

A slight blonde girl, too young, reached for Katrine’s hand. “Will she be okay?” Her face was puffy.

Katrine bent down and wiped at her tears. “Yes, yes, of course she will.” She hoped her tone was convincing.

As expected, practice resumed the next day and the bloodstain was gone. Mr. Kaiser refused to come, furious that he’d have to rework the ballet for the season. Katrine finally worked up the courage to visit Valeria in the hospital a week afterwards.

Her room was filled with bouquets of flowers, garish compared to Valeria’s translucent skin, and the sickly sweet odor turned Katrine’s stomach. Valeria, laying in bed, hardly made a dent in the mattress. She cracked open her eyes at the sound of Katrine’s footsteps and sighed. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“We miss you,” Katrine said, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her tone sounded too cheery, as wrong as the flowers surrounding someone who was clearly not getting better.

“Look at all these,” Valeria said, lifting up a finger. “I keep telling the nurses to throw them away, but then more show up.” Her hand fluttered back down. “Lord Edward is quite proud of himself for sending an orchid this time of year.”

“He visited?”

She forced out a weak puff of air. “Of course not.”

Silence settled over them. Katrine studied Valeria’s bony hands, her brittle nails and bluish veins, and wondered why she hadn’t noticed how old Valeria looked. How long had she looked this frail? She’d been luminous, otherworldly, when Katrine first met her years ago. Then, she couldn’t have been much older than Katrine was now. 

“What are you going to do when you get out?” she asked. Valeria had closed her eyes and Katrine wasn’t sure if she’d fallen asleep.

“I’m not getting out.” Her eyes remained shut.

“But now you can go wherever you want.” With an injury like this, Valeria was never going to dance again, but she had citizenship. She could find a husband, or leave for an outer district. Katrine bit her thumbnail. Maybe Valeria didn’t want that. Katrine hadn’t even thought about what she was going to do herself. Stopping wasn’t an option.

“It’s been so long since I stopped moving,” Valeria said. “Everything hurts. My joints feel like stones rubbing together. I don’t want to move ever again.”

“You have to be positive, that’s the only way you’ll get better.” There was nothing to say that didn’t sound contrived.

Her eyes finally cracked open. “Why? So I can belong to someone else?” She took a reedy breath. “I think I’m done.”

“But…”

Suddenly with more force than Katrine thought possible, Valeria’s hand shot out and grasped her wrist. Her touch was icy, as if no blood ran through it, and Katrine flinched. “You need to take care of them. Promise me.” Her eyes flashed with brief lucidity.

Katrine didn’t know what she meant by that. But she said the words. “I promise.”

With that the last of her energy dissipated and her head fell back on the pillow. “I’m sorry to ask, but do me one last favor.” Katrine had to lean in to hear her.

“What?”

“The pills under my pillow.” She turned her head to the side and nodded. “The nurses will find them soon.”

Katrine dug her hand under the pillow and scooped out a pile of hard cylinders. There had to be at least twenty. Valeria turned her head to the ceiling and smiled, that same little smile on her face when she lay bleeding and broken on the floor. Katrine bit her lip to stifle the tears threatening her eyes, and clutching the pills in her sweaty palm, she turned and walked out the room as quickly as she could without drawing attention to her distress.

Outside the chilly winter air seemed appropriate. The slate gray sky blended with the stone buildings and the empty streets made Mitras sterile and looming. Descending the steps of the hospital, Katrine found a grate and opened her hand, revealing the partially dissolved grit of the pills. A few snowflakes landed in her palm, white meeting white. As she dropped them in the grate to meet the sludge she’d combed through as a child, she wondered how it was possible that her mother knew what snow was if it never reached the Underground, or even if it mattered.

* * *

Two months dead and Katrine moved on with the rest of them, banishing Valeria’s withered face to the back of her mind behind different allegro series and the patrons’ names. Though they were only allowed to know their first names, Katrine scoured the newspapers for any news of their outside doings as she savored her single egg for breakfast. It was good to know, just in case. Strangely, she’d never found Mr. Kaiser’s name ever mentioned.

Katrine had to keep an eye on those men, while at the same time making sure the younger girls didn’t wander past the muslin curtain into the antechamber, and keep the choreography straight in her head. There was too much to remember, too many fears to keep her awake at night. It wasn’t fair that the patrons came to the ballet to forget their troubles while she had to remember everything they ever said. To soothe herself she thought about the day she would become perfect and no one would touch her ever again.

Valeria hadn’t warned her that Mr. Kaiser would take a newfound interest in her. With her death he needed a new principal dancer, the very best of the company. He beckoned her forward more frequently, demanded precision, and prodded her legs with that godforsaken cane. That meant more bruises, of course, and today was an especially cruel day.

Mr. Kaiser watched her series, sucking on his lips. “What did you eat for breakfast?”

“Half an egg,” she lied.

“Ah! No wonder the floor is shaking. For a moment I feared Titans had broken through the wall. Next time the series will be correct.”

She repeated it, imagining that the egg had never passed her lips and nothing the day before, too.

“Again!”

Now she was hollow, insides scooped out and discarded.

The cane thwacked down on the floor and Katrine thanked every star above that it wasn’t against her skin. Mr. Kaiser turned his back to her and threw up his hands at one of the instructors. “You tell Katrine she dances like an overfed cow, seems I can’t get through.” He then pointed his cane at Josephine and demanded she perform the steps. 

After class ended Katrine arranged her face into stony indifference, carefully packed away her belongings, and when she was certain no one was looking slipped down the abandoned hallway and into the little closet.

Katrine knew the closet was no protection from Mr. Kaiser, or anyone else, though she still sat there every time rage bubbled up in her throat and tears stung her eyes. It was cold, sterile, and the safest place she knew. Picking at a scab on her toe, she focused on the series and where she could have gone wrong. Maybe the glissades were not delicate enough? She was still not good enough to avoid his wrath. She was still not perfect.

The door swung open and Katrine looked up. A spindly shadow froze in the doorway, startled by her presence.

“Don’t just stand there, close the door,” Katrine said, waving her inside. She’d shared the closet on multiple occasions. The unspoken rule was to never admit they’d seen someone else in there.

The girl stepped inside and shut the door, collapsing next to Katrine. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she muttered into her arms. “Not your class.”

“I didn’t know you were the scheduler,” Katrine said. She could feel the girl’s glower directed at her.

“What’re  _ you  _ doing here? You don’t have anything to cry about. You’re the best one. He doesn’t even yell at you.”

“You weren’t there today. What’re you crying about?”

The girl sniveled. “Mrs. Olson said my entrechats were sloppy.” Victoria, she remembered, the one who did have sloppy entrechats. Katrine learned names by criticism. She wondered idly who’d shown Victoria the closet.

Katrine returned to her scab. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

Victoria began to sob.

“Shh! You’re too loud!” Katrine grit her teeth and her eyes darted to the door, waiting for someone to barge in, and pulled Victoria to her chest to muffle the noise.

“I don’t want to go baaack!” Her hot breath moistened at Katrine’s neck and she felt the tears smear across her skin. 

“No, you’re not, I promise you won’t.” Katrine stroked Victoria’s arm and pressed her chin against her head. That was untrue, but the lie was an easy one to tell. And if Victoria really knew what it meant to never go back, would she be sobbing like this?

Victoria continued to sniffle. Katrine considered if it was a bad idea to coddle her. Was this going to weaken her, and leave her less prepared for when she grew older and fell prey to the patrons at the antechamber? Too late now, though.

After a few shaky breaths, Victoria coughed weakly. “Marion says you have a mean face, but you’re not that bad.”

Katrine pulled her arm back. “You tell Marion I’ll hit her harder than Mr. Kaiser ever could.”

Victoria giggled, then hiccuped. “Does he ever get any nicer?”

“No.”

“I’m going to hit him back one day. He deserves it. My mama said everyone needs a taste of their own medicine sometimes.” 

Katrine smiled. “That won’t go well.”

“When I’m bigger. I’ll learn the thirty fouettes in the  _ Firebird  _ and then when I’m done I’ll kick him in the face.” She said it with such conviction that Katrine burst into laughter, picturing the sequence. When she imagined smacking Mr. Kaiser’s nose with her sweaty foot, she slumped over, tears finally streaming down her face.

“Stop laughing!” That only made Katrine cackle harder. “You really are mean. I’m going to tell everyone you tore a hole in my practice skirt, unless you take me to the baker’s. I want macaroons.”

Katrine raised her eyebrows and tried to suppress her smile. A girl of twelve, already skilled in extortion. “I wouldn’t risk invoking your wrath.” The apprentices were only allowed out of the Company if accompanied by a dancer with citizenship, and none of them wanted to waste the time.

Victoria rose to her feet and opened the door, and Katrine followed. Squinting against the light, she studied Victoria, taking a better look at her than she’d bothered to before. With her sleek black hair and olive skin, Victoria was unquestionably beautiful, so she had nothing to worry about there. But she was tall for her age, already Katrine’s height, and it was possible she’d grow too tall for Mr. Kaiser’s liking. But she had a toughness not evident behind her dark eyes, so Katrine didn’t have too much to worry about.

* * *

As the stately grandfather clock chimed three in the morning, Katrine sat curled up in the loveseat outside the girls’ bedrooms, stroking her hair while reading the words bathed in faint candlelight on the creamy paper of her book. Well, not hers, but the agricultural minister’s. The night before he’d proclaimed her the best ballerina he’d ever seen and that her dancing made his heart soar. He’d then fallen asleep on her hair and it took a half hour of careful tugging to free herself. She’d slipped the blue-covered book in her bag when he wasn’t looking, partly for revenge and also because she needed to know the rest. It described a magnificent underwater city ruled by half-human, half-fish people. The stories helped when she couldn’t sleep, either because of Eva’s snoring and Josephine muttering or because she didn’t want to wake up in a cold sweat imagining someone on top of her.

A faint rustling noise from above broke her concentration. She shuddered. Hopefully not a rat in the attic. It was ironic that Mitras had rats just like the Underground; minus the soaring buildings and clean streets, the two were not so different. She returned to the book, anxious to find out if the beautiful fish girl would escape the monstrous creature with sixteen tentacles. Maybe those kinds of cities and creatures existed in the lakes outside Mitras. At least the monster would eat her instead of letting her live just to crush her over and over again.

A deep thud rattled the ceiling and Katrine jumped. Definitely not a rat. She peered into the vent above, wondering if she should go wake someone, when pale fingers curled around the metal. The vent cover disappeared and a girl came tumbling down right on Katrine’s foot.

“Don’t move!” Sharp metal chilled Katrine’s throat and coarse red hair brushed her cheek. Katrine willed herself still.  _ What a pathetic way to die, by a spindly little burglar in the middle of Mitras Company with no one to see! _ But then her nose wrinkled. The girl smelled terrible, like sweat and the oddly familiar odor of rotten fruit. It was a combination she hadn’t encountered in years. “Where’s the goods?” the girl asked.

“W-what?”

“The  _ goods _ !” She hissed the word like Katrine should know.

“I don’t- How’d you get up here?”

The girl faltered, her grip around the knife loosening. “How-”

“You smell! Like the Underground.”

She withdrew the knife and sat back on her haunches. “How’d you know?”

“I...lived there once.”

The girl narrowed her green eyes, but Katrine could see the thoughts bouncing around in her head. “Then how’d you get up here?” She waved her arms, encompassing the clean white walls and chandelier and shiny wooden floors.

Katrine shook her head. “How’d  _ you  _ get up here?”

The girl pressed her lips into a thin line and moved her feet off the sofa. She sat primly, as if she wanted to avoid dirtying the fabric. “West stairwell. On new moons it’s easy to sneak out.”

Katrine nodded. That was the same one she’d walked up. Would she have tried the same thing if she’d known back then? “There’s not much here, unless you’re looking for a tutu.”

“A what?”

“Nothing. Do you know where you are?”

“Not really. This is my first time. My friends knew, though. Is this your house?”

“Sort of. It’s the Mitras Company. I dance ballet.” Met with a blank stare, Katrine attempted to explain it.

The girl’s brow furrowed. “Is that one of those fancy things rich people do?”

The corners of Katrine’s mouth twitched. “Yes.” 

“So you’re rich, too? You must be. You have the prettiest hair I’ve ever seen.”

She clutched her hair again, and dropped her head back to stare at the chandelier. By Underground standards, absolutely, but here? No, certainly not. Though she had more food in her belly, this girl had more freedom. Though not nearly as much as the people born in Mitras, asleep in their soft downy beds. “What’s your name?” she finally asked.

“Isabel. What’s yours?”

“Katrine.” 

They were silent, listening to the ticking of the clock. Katrine watched Isabel from the corner of her eye and caught her tilt her head to sniff at her clothes. Maybe if she’d been in the right place, or the wrong place, she could have been plucked out of the Underground to dance for someone else’s pleasure, too.

“Did you come up here to steal?”

“Yeah.” Isabel sat on her hands and stared at her feet. “I mean, Oliver needs medicine for his lungs, and Alison’s nana broke her wrist so she can’t work anymore, and with my share I’m gonna buy a sweet roll from Uncle Jack down in Left Bank and I haven’t had one in six months and I’m just  _ dying  _ for one!” The last part came out in a choked rush.

“Shh!” Katrine craned her neck to look for anyone awake and tried not to show the surprise on her face. Old one-eyed Uncle Jack did have the best sweet rolls, though it was incredible he was still alive. Suddenly an idea sprouted in her head, something deliciously vile, something that would benefit Isabel to the detriment of Mr. Kaiser. He could hit her all he wanted, but this would bite him back even harder, and she grinned. “I’ve got a crown I can give you. You can pawn the gems on it.” 

Isabel perked up. “You will?”

“Who are you talking to?” A cutting male voice sent a violent shudder through Katrine’s body, and she and Isabel turned to find a tall, wiry man and a dark-haired boy. The question sounded more like a threat. Men were not allowed back here, not even the patrons, and simultaneously she wanted to claw at their faces and run away screaming. Instead she shrank and remained still.

Isabel jumped to her feet, hands placating. “This is-”

“You heard me, no one sees. And you’re over here blabbing away?” The boy stalked forward, a knife in his hand and his jaw clenched. His face, now visible in the light, was clearly not a child’s. He had the look of the adults she remembered from the Underground: sallow skin and the sharp cheekbones of the underfed, but his eyes were unusually probing. He jabbed his knife at Katrine. “You say one word and I cut your throat.” His tone made it clear he expected no resistance, and that familiar mixture of fear and fury rose to her throat once again.

“Nonono, wait, don’t make her mad, Le-”

“No names!” the tall man hissed.

“Sorry! But she promised me a crown!”

The short man’s eyes flicked to Isabel. “You found something?”

This was getting out of hand. “Wait, I-” His gaze darted back with deadly precision and Katrine shut her mouth.

“Please!” Isabel grabbed Katrine’s hands, bony and dry. She looked so pitiful that Katrine sighed and shook her head.

“Fine, just be quiet. But it’s down the hallway.” The Crane Queen crown sat alone in Mr. Kaiser’s office, locked behind glass in an imposing wooden cabinet. He even left the key in the lock, as if his reputation and cane alone were protection enough from anyone daring to take it. Every time Mr. Kaiser called her in there to discuss her shortcomings, she stared at it instead and vowed that she would one day be perfect enough to wear it.

“You go with her,” the short man said, pointing to Isabel.

A wave of nausea swept over her. “I can’t leave you alone here!” What was she thinking, making promises to men with knives? Maybe she should scream, but would that make things worse?

Isabel twisted her lips like she understood. “Maybe you should go, then.”

The short man nodded. He swept his hand out to Katrine to demand she lead the way, clearly mocking, and anger curdled her relief. She started down the hallway, immediately feeling his eyes on her back. It was foolish to allow him out of her line of sight. But why should she be scared of him, someone whom she initially mistook for a child? What could he do if she decided to start screaming? He did have a knife, but it could be for show.

She led him up the marble stairs and into the offices where they were only allowed on invitation, past the framed illustrations of the dancers frozen in statuesque positions advertising previous seasons’ performances, and stopped at the crown resting in its glass case. It was tiny, because heavy headpieces ruin a dancer's balance, but it had enough diamonds in it to glitter from every angle. It was the most dazzling thing she’d ever seen, and it had fit so perfectly on Valeria’s head, and she’d wanted it to fit perfectly on her, too. She turned to the man and swept her hand out in the same gesture, but it wasn’t mocking. This really did deserve an introduction.

Momentarily his eyes widened, but then reverted back to slits. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this? Walk around with it on my head? I can’t sell this shit.”

_ He should be thankful I’m doing this!  _ “Break it up?” she suggested. Mindful of the knife, she made sure to keep her voice low and tone steady. 

“Don’t be stupid. You should be thankful I haven’t cut your throat,” he said, apparently able to read her mind. His gall was bigger than he was and that infuriating little scowl made her want to strangle him. How dare he insult something so stunning? To calm herself she imagined Mr. Kaiser’s face, how this would ruin his carefully crafted image, and let that thought soothe her. She turned the key and swung open the glass door. The cold gems scratched her fingers for the last time as she picked it up, and a pang of sorrow pierced her chest. Was it possible to dance a perfect Crane Queen without it?

He reached for it and she shrank away. The thought of his dirty hands on the crown made her feel like a cockroach had slipped down her dress. But technically, she wasn’t giving it to  _ him _ . “I can’t give it to you until I see you out of here.” 

“You’ve got a lot of demands for someone being robbed.”

_ You’re vulgar and you’re shorter than all the apprentice girls _ , she wanted to say, but that knife kept her mouth shut. “I’ll give it to her,” she said instead, and turned sharply and stalked back down the stairs, trying to get away from him as quickly as possible.

Isabel gasped at the sight of the crown. “It’s so sparkly!”

Katrine thought to say that it looked even better in the sunlight, but stopped herself. She hadn’t seen the sun until she was five years old; had they ever?

The tall man’s serious face cracked into a wide grin, the first emotion she’d seen from him. The short man still looked unimpressed, raising an eyebrow as he ran his fingers over the brocade sofa.

“It’s yours, but I want something in return,” Katrine said. “I want a knife.”

Isabel laughed, pulling out hers from the sheath at her belt. “More than fair.”

“No, I want his.” She pointed at the short man. If the knife gave him such unbridled confidence, making him act bulletproof, then maybe it could do the same for her.

“No way.” He jutted his chin. “You’ve got money. Buy your own.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Just do it,” the tall man said to him.

The short man’s scowl deepend, but lost its arrogance. When neither Isabel nor the tall man said anything he sighed and held the hilt to Katrine, pinching the blade between his thumb and forefinger. She took it and watched the candlelight flicker in the steel. It had its own kind of beauty, too, and probably was dazzling in the sunlight. She purposefully turned her back to him and handed the crown to Isabel, who held it gently as if she thought she’d break it if she held it too firmly.

“You need to leave,” Katrine said. “It’s a wonder no one heard you. But how’d you get in, anyway?” 

“Window,” Isabel said with a smile.

“Nobody up here locks their damn windows,” the short man muttered.

Katrine followed them back to the eastern wing where the practice room was and found the offending window, curtain blowing in the breeze. Isabel jumped out last and turned to wave, then disappeared into the shadows. Katrine waved back, then rested her hands on the windowsill and felt the quiet air cool her cheeks. It looked so easy, vanishing into the darkness without a trace.

* * *

The hysterics were a wonder to behold. When he discovered the burglary Mr. Kaiser blew into the practice room, face flaming and actual tears glistening in his eyes, and swore at them for nearly a half hour about the inhumanity and indecency and crime against beauty itself. He hit every soloist on the back of the thigh as a warning, though Katrine was unsure what the warning was for. He clearly didn’t think any of them were audacious enough to steal it themselves. When he deemed his punishments sufficient, Mr. Kaiser stormed out and refused to come to practice for a week. Katrine took the opportunity to make sure the apprentice girls understood the grand adage so no one would tempt him into violence upon his return.

A few months later, after the bruise on her thigh faded, Mr. Kaiser called her into his office. She’d been there before to discuss his expectations for upcoming roles which often turned to criticism and it always twisted her stomach into knots. But this was the first time since the crown had been stolen, and she felt a little bit braver. His cross expression didn’t send shivers down her back as he glared at the empty glass case behind his desk.

“I’m terribly sorry about the crown, Mr. Kaiser,” Katrine said after she sat down, casting her eyes to the floor. 

He scowled. “The police were useless. There are other matters more important than robbery? Absurd.” His beady eyes darted to hers. “You don’t know anything, do you?”

She shook her head. “The thieves must have been skilled to do it so quietly.”

“Here, of all places, when the jeweler is right down the street!”

“It’s a shame. I’ve always wanted to be the Crane Queen.”

Mr. Kaiser slammed his hand down on the desk and she flinched. “No, no! This is a sign. I always knew  _ The Crane Queen _ was overdone. It’s passe and overwrought, dripping with melodrama.” He drummed his fingers on the desk, lost in thought. “It’s time for something daring, something the ballet masters before me couldn’t do.”

She waited for him to continue. Mr. Kaiser hated being interrupted.

He rose and clasped his hands behind his back, strolling to the back corner of his office. Noting his cane resting against the edge of the desk, Katrine got up and followed him.

Mr. Kaiser stood before one of the oil paintings. It depicted a ballerina balanced on one foot with the other high in the air, her arms trailing behind as if she were soaring. Her expression was distant, her neck exposed, golden feathers sharp as knives exploding from the edge of her bodice. The rest of her was red, surging from her fingers, streaked around her eyes, and forming a deep slash at her lips. She was both magnificent and terrifying. No one would dare touch her.

“The Firebird,” he said, reverent. Katrine knew. Everyone knew.

“I tried with Valeria. But she wasn’t right,” he continued. “Too brittle and weak to build into something as dynamic as the Firebird. And before that, no one’s performed it for twenty years.”

Katrine knew that, too. But Valeria wasn’t weak. “She was better than all of us. If she can’t do it, then who can?”

Mr. Kaiser’s arm twitched, like he wished he had his cane to strike the floor. “No, she wasn’t. She was common and vulgar. And feeble, those jetés were so simple a corps girl could do them.” He shook his head in disappointment. “But you! You’re perfect for it. No one’s as skilled. You’re surging, grand, explosive!” Katrine’s jaw slackened. Her heart, for the first time she could remember, was light. That was the kindest thing he’d ever said to her.

“And you have that wonderful world-weary look the patrons love. You look like you’re going to bite them, but you never fight back. It makes them feel like they’ve tamed their very own Titan.”

Her heart sank back down to where it belonged. She said nothing to that, not because she was holding back a rebuke, but because she could think of nothing to say. He was right.

“The new crown will be better. Gold, with hundreds of rubies. The patrons have been especially generous this year, I’m sure I can drum up some interest. Sales are up, I’m certain you had something to do with it.” He winked. 

Katrine felt like she’d swallowed sand. It was an honor to be chosen, for Mr. Kaiser to put so much trust in her, but what if she wasn’t good enough? What if she couldn’t transform into something so perfect? What if she too collapsed on the floor, her leg splintered? Maybe both her arms would break too and then she wouldn’t be able to fend off his cane. She looked back at the painting, at the flawless woman floating above her, and knew she was unworthy. She’d need to tack another hour on to daily practice. No, two.

“I have to rework some choreography. But we’ll start very soon. To start, you need to cut your hair. It’s much too long and scraggly at the ends.”

Katrine grasped at her loose hair instinctively. Her eyes darted to Mr. Kaiser’s cane, imagining it transforming into a massive pair of scissors hacking at her hair, which with one careless slip could slice her neck. The thought made her want to collapse and scream until her lungs exploded. It would be the same as sweaty hands pinning down her arms. 

“Lord Dalton says he likes my hair long,” she squeaked. Lord Dalton had never said such a thing, but she desperately needed something to call her own.

He shrugged. “Then Lord Dalton knows best.”

The victory was surprisingly easy. Relieved and emboldened, Katrine decided to press forward.

“Mr. Kaiser, may I ask you a question?”

He looked up from inspecting his nails. “Of course.”

“Why do you do this? It doesn’t seem to make you happy.”

He turned to her and she braced herself for a slap. But the expression on his face was wounded. It was just as odd as his smile.

“But it does make me happy. I love the ballet. I love the beauty, the technique, the perfection required. I love watching you all transform from little gutter rats to angels. And I love you, Katrine, because you’re going to be my masterpiece.” His voice was soft and tender. She was so startled by the declaration that she didn’t think to dart away from his hand moving towards her. Instead of a pinch or a poke or a slap, he rested it on her shoulder. It was a cloying attempt at being fatherly. He maybe loved her skill, but he didn’t love her, so what was the purpose of the lie?

“I know you think I hate you all. I only hate when you aren’t as good as I know you can be, or don’t work as hard as you should. Everything must be broken down first to achieve perfection. After all, diamonds are made from pressure.” He squeezed her shoulder and she wanted to vomit.

“Now, off you go. The premiere will be here before you know it,” he said, pushing her towards the door. Thankful to end the conversation, Katrine rushed out and down the stairs towards the practice room.

Mr. Kaiser certainly didn’t love them. He was more deranged than all the patrons combined. But Katrine knew nothing of love. Fathers didn’t abandon their daughters if they loved them, and mothers didn’t send them to the slaughter. The patrons claimed they loved her grace, but she was no more than a warm body, easily replaceable. Did Valeria love her because she tried to shield her from the rotting backbone of the Mitras Company, or was she only trying to protect herself? 

Katrine did know if she were to be loved by anyone, to be some man’s favorite, then Mr. Kaiser would be best.

* * *

The summer night was sweltering, so humid the sheets stuck to her skin and sleep was impossible. Katrine dangled her feet in the fountain by the military tribunal, Victoria splashing away beside her. Victoria had claimed she too couldn’t sleep and threatened to scream if she was sent home. Katrine huffed and rolled her eyes, but didn’t mind. Victoria was a quick learner and mostly listened to her advice, but liked to mimic the way Katrine tugged her hair and snatched her books when she thought she wouldn’t notice. But she giggled with glee when Katrine told her about the crown and still talked about how she was going to trip Mr. Kaiser with his own cane. She seemed more interested in that than perfecting her dancing.

Victoria had been studying her face for a few uncomfortable moments, and Katrine kept her eyes down. “Hey, why do you always tell us to stay behind the curtain until it’s our cue? And why can’t we talk to those men in the antechamber?” 

Dread chilled her skin, despite the heat. “You’re not supposed to look at them.”

“But I can’t  _ not  _ look at them. Michelle said they just pay for premium tickets, but why pay so much just to look at us? They can do that in the audience.” Victoria was right. She needed to learn to not think so much.

“They…” 

“They what?”

Bitter poison flooded her mouth. She wasn’t supposed to say anything, and she hadn’t, not to any of them. Better not to know. But it wasn’t true! It wasn’t better for a mouse to walk straight into the cat’s mouth without knowing its teeth were sharp. And she was supposed to protect these girls.

“Please!”

“They fuck you, okay? They rip your clothes off and stick whatever they want in you, like you’re their toy. You have to go along with whatever demented fantasy they’ve thought up and act like it’s the greatest idea you’ve ever heard. And then they send you off with some money and jewelry to make it all okay.” The poison was gushing out and there was nothing she could do to stop it. “They get to own you for a night and then they think they own you forever. And they do! They don’t think about me when they’re working or eating dinner with their wives but I think about them every single day. What they like, what they don’t, and everything they’ve ever said. Them, and all my mistakes. That’s all I think about.” Finished, she ground her knuckles into the stone. She didn’t feel better. She felt like she’d made everything truer by speaking it aloud.

Victoria’s face was pale. It looked like she’d aged ten years in a single moment. “What am I supposed to do?” she whispered.

“Bite their heads off.”

The silence was cavernous. Katrine looked off into the dark window of the building to her left and imagined a man snoring in his bed while a ballerina lay beside him, watching his every move. One could have been her, the dagger in her bag unused because she was too afraid to use it.

“Don’t you want to get out? You have citizenship. You can go wherever you want,” Victoria said in a small voice. She kicked her feet, sending ripples across the water.

Katrine’s gaze dropped to her motionless feet. “And do what? All I can do is dance.”

“There’s the library at Stohess. And the mountains up north. I don’t know, you’ll figure out something.”

She said nothing. Citizenship did mean she could leave Mitras, but no dancer left of her own accord unless it was with a husband. And they all stayed within Wall Sina. No one around her ever spoke of the outer walls other than to complain of crop shortages, and beyond Wall Maria, the only thing that existed were wastelands. 

“You know, if you left here you could go to the sea.”

Katrine eyed her. “Where’d you hear about that?”

“ _ The Fateful Shipwreck _ . You lent it to me.”

“I didn’t lend it, you swiped it. And don’t go spouting off about the sea. You could get in trouble.” The patrons could own as many books on the sea as they wanted, but normal people like them would be punished for it.

“You should go. And you can bring me,” Victoria said. “Say I’m your daughter. You look old enough to be my mom.”

Katrine snatched at Victoria’s hair. “You take that back or I’ll push you in.” Victoria shrieked and keeled over into the water. When she didn’t immediately raise her head, Katrine frantically grabbed at her arm, even though the fountain was only waist-deep, hoping it wasn’t a reaction to what she’d said earlier.

Victoria emerged, spitting out a mouthful of water. “Sea’s supposed to be salty. This tastes like metal. Uck.” She shuddered.

Katrine exhaled, relieved.

“I’ve decided,” Victoria said.

“Decided what?”

“I’m going to save up my money, and when I have enough I’m buying a boat ticket to Trost. So I can join the Scouts.”

Katrine nearly fell off the edge howling with laughter. There was a cruel edge to it she didn’t like. “The Scouts? So you can get your head torn off before you’re even near the sea?” The patrons loved to complain about the Scouts, how they were a waste of money hell-bent on a pointless mission. Katrine didn’t understand why anyone would want to risk such a gruesome death. “If you’re lucky, they’ll send you up in the north where it’s so cold nothing can move.”  _ Someone else can go find my father _ , she thought bitterly.

“That’s fine. If it’s past Wall Maria I don’t care how cold it is. I want to see what they’re hiding out there.”

“Hiding what? What crazy books are you reading this time?”

Victoria shook her head. “Don’t you think  _ someone’s _ out there? Beyond the walls?

Katrine had never thought of that. She tipped her head back and stared at the stars, wondering if someone else was doing the same thing, millions of miles away in a place far better than Mitras. The idea was comforting. “Saving up that much is going to take a while.”

“Not if I’m smart,” Victoria said. Katrine didn’t like the implications behind that. She fingered the silver mirror in her pocket and pulled it out. Victoria had given it to her for her birthday, something Katrine had never received before, much less a gift she wanted to keep.

“You can take this back,” Katrine said, tracing the delicate vines. She couldn’t have spent much on it, but it was something. “To sell it.”

Victoria shook her head. “You’ll need something to remember me. Every time you look in it, you can remember that you’ll never be as pretty as me.”

Katrine kicked water at her, even though she was already soaked. “What are you going to do when you find the sea, Commander Victoria of the Survey Corps?”

Victoria smoothed her hair away from her face. “Find the fish people, obviously. Maybe they’ll let me live with them. What are you going to do, Firebird?”

“Buy my own crown. Bigger and better than anything Mr. Kaiser can think up. Let’s go get you dried off before you get sick.”

As they walked back to the Company, Katrine watched Victoria’s face. The pale, sickened shock was gone, replaced with resolve. Katrine realized with prickly shame that she was jealous, envious of a girl who could think not just beyond the confines of the Mitras Company but past the three walls themselves. Nothing in Mitras excited her anymore; the gleaming streets and beautiful costumes no longer made her gasp with delight. There was no room in her head for anything other than how to make herself perfect. She wondered when she’d become too old to dream.

* * *

Katrine sat before the mirror backstage, beginning her transformation from human to flawless. Dancers flitted behind her in a rush of nervous energy and the patrons’ conversations were a dull hum in her ears, but her mind was quiet. She didn’t need to rehearse the steps and mimic the movements with her arms like the others, because at the last dress rehearsal Mr. Kaiser had watched her throw herself into every movement like she was on fire. When she was done she met his eyes and he said nothing. His mouth was set in a thin white line, an unfamiliar look that wasn’t quite trepidation but also not pride. There was no trace of his stormy anger. It might have been reverence. She raised her chin, just a fraction, and his cane did not move.

Every feather in her headpiece was in place, black kohl streaks at her eyes and lips painted a shiny blood red. Katrine narrowed her eyes, turning them into bottomless pits, and watched her lips crack open into a glinting smile. She was terrifying, an apparition from a nightmare that had finished gnawing on the bones of her prey and was ready for the next hapless victim. No matter that the illustrator decided to make her demure, floating in the air with a smile gracing her lips. If that was what the audience expected from what they saw in the newspapers, they were in for a horrible shock. She would not just be a phoenix rising from ashes, but one made not of flesh and bone but iron and flames. She was going to be perfect, untouchable, and everyone would see that. They would fear her. If they tried to touch her, they would drop dead from her poison.

In one swift motion Katrine stood and threw back the muslin curtain. The air turned cold and conversations died. Men twice her size balked at the blaze of red. More than a few mouths dropped open. One began to say something, but she silenced him with a sharp glance.  _ They’re all afraid of me _ , she thought with a delicious surge of power. The perverse Lord Klein, who liked to smell their shoes and throw coins at them, swallowed like he was being choked. Lord Walter, whose wealth rivaled the king’s but couldn’t buy a suit that fit him properly, nearly dropped his glass. And even Lord Issac, the scientist so destitute his wealthy friends paid for his membership, took a step back. She didn’t need the knife, not when the crown atop her head was sharp enough to stab them.

Paying them no mind, Katrine strode to the velvet curtain and waited for her cue, standing beside Mr. Kaiser. He turned to look at her, but she kept her head forward. If she did this right, he would not smack her leg and suggest sending her back underground to lose weight. Maybe he would never do it again. He would treat her like the precious stones in his beloved crown and not a disappointment. If she hit every move, then the patrons would be so afraid of her brilliance that they would cower before her. She was a living flame, ready to burn them alive. Maybe they’d be so scared that she spread her poison to the other girls and they wouldn’t touch them, either. 

She had to be perfect, because there was no other option.

Katrine stepped onstage exactly when the orchestra stopped. It made for a jarring experience, Mr. Kaiser had claimed, one of the only decisions she agreed with. She stood balanced, staring back into that great black pit with its thousand invisible eyes, daring it to find fault in her.

Then the cello started, not of its own accord but because she demanded it to, and then wings exploded from her back and she was airborne. The music was frantic and rapid but she moved effortlessly, her legs sweeping across the floor exactly on tempo. She didn’t have to think of the choreography, remember how to set her face or lift her arms, because she knew instinctively what to do. She rose from the remains of her imperfect, weak self, and left that carapace and the rest of them all behind in the gutter while she ascended to the clouds.

And then the orchestra rose to a frenzy and finally those thirty fouettes, doubles on the first fifteen because no one else could, and she created a cyclone around herself. The movement was so rapid that everything around her was a blur, the world falling away from her. Katrine finished with her arms raised, which was not a kick to Mr. Kaiser’s face but just as good. She stood still as marble, unbothered by the heat of the lights and the sweat trailing down her back, and felt no ache in her muscles. There was only triumph.

The applause radiated in waves through her body. Katrine saw them standing out of the corner of her eyes, but she didn’t turn her head. There were only the lights, what felt like the concentrated power of the sun on her and her alone. She thought that she might be perfect. Then the curtain dropped to her left, swallowing her in darkness, but she held the pose. Yes, she really was perfect.

The other ballerinas swarmed around her and Katrine let them touch her as she lowered her arms, the gaggle of dancers with flushed pink cheeks and bright smiles that became a barrier of white tulle. She closed her eyes as someone’s fingers laced with hers.

“You were brilliant!” Victoria’s voice floated into her ears.

_ I was _ , she thought.  _ I am. _

The bows passed in a haze as the audience showered her with roses. She gathered them up in her arms, the thick perfume making her dizzy. Mr. Kaiser stepped onstage and waved and bowed like he’d danced every part himself, and she didn’t even care. She even touched his shoulder and grinned at him.

Afterwards in the antechamber the patrons sang her praises. Stunning, electrifying, art in motion! She barely heard them. Their words slid off her like raindrops and splattered onto the floor. A damp, meaty hand clamped her shoulder, but instead of swallowing back a shudder she shrugged him off and kept walking. Katrine strode past the muslin curtain and down the hallway, past the private suites for the patrons and to her decidedly less sumptuous dressing room, unlacing her costume as she walked. She drew her hand back and found a red streak at her thumb. Blood. Must’ve been from a thorn. There was a small drop on the edge of her slip, a deep red staining the silk, a crack in her armor.  _ I’m still perfect _ , she reassured herself.

After closing the door, Katrine sank into her chair and untied her shoes. The noise of the applause and the orchestra was gone and replaced by a faint ringing in her ear. She wiped a damp cloth across her face, a seemingly backbreaking task. The sweat and grime was gone, but exhaustion had sunk into her muscles when she wasn’t paying attention and caused her head to droop. The crown, hanging on to her hair by pins, finally slid off and clattered to the floor. It felt impossible to reach for it.

Heaving herself up, she turned to the mirror and gasped. Staring back at her was not a phoenix but a scraggly fledgling fallen out of its nest. Her face was wan, devoid of life, white as plaster except for her bloodshot eyes. Where was the assurance, the gleaming smile? This wasn’t perfect, far from it! She looked as fragile as her mother. If a patron saw her now, he’d smile and laugh and cradle her in his jaw to drag back to his den.

Katrine fumbled for the crown. It was larger than the one she’d given away, with twice as many gems, and she was unworthy of this one too. She placed it gently on its pillow, afraid to touch it further, and threw her cloth over it so it couldn’t see her weakness. 

A sharp rap at the door jolted her upright.

“Katrine!”

She froze, her heart seizing with panic. 

“Join us! We’re waiting for you!” The patron’s voice was too jovial. He was certainly not afraid of her. She bit down hard on her tongue, praying the man wouldn’t try the locked door and figure out she was inside.

“Not in,” the man said after a few moments and his footsteps receded. Katrine swallowed the cry of relief struggling in her throat. She dashed to the door and pressed her ear against it, straining for any other sounds, her knees trembling. After what felt like hours the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses faded away and she peeked out her door to check for onlookers. Seeing no one, Katrine shrugged on a robe and darted to the practice room. 

The room full of mirrors appeared cavernous when empty. Her reflection gave her a ghoulish look. That little monster from the Underground she’d first seen in the mirror was long dead, but this wasn’t much better. How was someone so pale and weak going to do the same performance tomorrow night, and the next, for weeks? Was the performance imperfect, despite practicing every day for hours and analyzing Mr. Kaiser’s face for any sign of displeasure? She had to go find a pair of pointe shoes and go through the act again, to find what was wrong. But the thought of that made her want to fall on the floor sobbing.

Katrine hadn’t understood what Valeria said in her hospital bed, but now it all made sense. She too wanted to lay down and stop moving. Sinking to the floor and onto her back, Katrine felt the cool wood soothe her aching muscles. It was nice, too nice. Maybe she didn’t have to get back up. But she thought she could hear the whispers of shoes on the wood, the ceaseless swish and tap of steps. Even when she covered her ears, she could still hear it.

A sudden crash cut through the noise, and Katrine sat upright. Her breath caught in her lungs, waiting for the next noise. Then, a scream. It could be anything, a drunken patron knocking something over or pinching a dancer’s ass, but fear propelled her to her feet and sent her sprinting down the hallway. This sounded menacing. Bile rose up her throat.

The clamor grew louder as she reached the suites, and Katrine skidded to a halt when she saw them. Rowan lay sobbing in a heap on the floor in front of an open door and Josephine hovered over her, trying to calm her. A group of patrons peered at them at the end of the hallway, hands jammed in their pockets. One stood alone by the door, his face buried in his hands, and Mr. Kaiser rested a hand on his shoulder. He jerked his head up unnaturally, like a marionette, and he lurched away from the room. She saw his red, shiny face. It was Lord Isaac, the scientist.

“What was I supposed to do?” he moaned, clutching at his head. “She  _ bit  _ me!”

Katrine suddenly turned icy.

“We’ll take care of it,” Mr. Kaiser said. He waved away the other patrons. “Please don’t concern yourselves.”

“Somebody needs to get the police!” Josephine’s voice was hysterical, clawing Katrine’s nerves.

Mr. Kaiser’s eyes leveled her. They were black pits devoid of sympathy or rage or even sadness. “No need.” 

Katrine stepped forward. “What’s-”

“Don’t look!” The words were strangled in Josephine’s throat.

Katrine felt her legs draw her closer. But she hadn’t wanted to move. “What happened?”

“Don’t look, please,” Josephine whispered. Katrine was now close enough to see the stark fear in her eyes. She turned and looked in the doorway.

A girl lay motionless on the bed, a torn skirt tangled around her legs. One tiny hand dangled off the side. Even though her dark hair obscured her face, Katrine knew. And before she could stop herself she dashed into the room and grabbed Victoria’s hand, still faintly warm but too heavy, like her flesh had already turned to stone. Purple bruises the size of coins dotted her thin neck. Her eyes were open, the beautiful hazel turned dull, and there was a blotch of red at her lips. Blood. His blood.

Someone else screamed as Katrine sank to the floor. It was primal, animalistic, a keening sense of loss so colossal that it might swallow her. She stared at that little hand, one she’d guided into position countless times in practice, one that would never rise again to hold up a book or lift a sword or brush leaves aside to discover that new world. Her vision turned blurry. It was her fault. She was the one who spoke when she shouldn’t, told Victoria to bite a man when she herself was too much of a coward to do it, hadn’t shielded her from the demons prowling just outside the door. She was supposed to protect her, and she’d failed. Katrine was not a blazing phoenix able to turn those men to ashes, and how presumptuous of her to think she could! She was little more than dust.

Another howl sent a knife plunging into her brain, but when arms wrapped around her shoulders and a hand covered her mouth, Katrine realized she was the one who was screaming. Pushing them away, she hauled herself up and burst out the door to find Mr. Kaiser leading Lord Isaac away, a soothing hand on his back.

“Wait!” Katrine shrieked. “ _ Wait! _ ” If she’d had the knife, she would have hurled it as his back. 

Josephine grabbed Katrine’s wrist. “Stop! You can’t!”

And she was right. Katrine couldn’t. She fell to her knees again, watching them walk away as if she hadn’t made a sound. She was a fool to think that anyone would be afraid of her, and a fool to think she could fly when she was just a rat scuttling beneath their feet.

Someone pulled Katrine up and then she was tucked into bed. Time seemed to stop and start in fits. She didn’t know who hid away the younger girls, and what lie they were told about why there was no practice that day. She didn’t know what they spoke about in low voices and who left a glass of water on her nightstand and shut the door. Someone else had taken the job of protecting the others, the role Katrine couldn’t perform.

All she knew was that the performance last night didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Even if she thought she was perfect, at the next practice Mr. Kaiser would pull her aside and in that needling voice tell her some minute detail to be fixed. She could glare and hiss at the patrons all she wanted, but they would still grab her arms and pin her down and strangle her. If she stayed, she would keep dancing for them day after day until she wore herself to nothing, and then they would throw her away and move on to the next girl. No one would even remember she existed.

Victoria was right. There had to be something better, because anything would be better than this.

Katrine threw off her blankets and searched for a bag. She grabbed all her jewelry, anything that she could sell, and her trove of stolen coins. After tugging on her plainest clothes, she stopped when she caught her reflection in the mirror. Still wan, still weak. Despite knowing how ridiculous it was Katrine snatched up the lipstick on her vanity. Soon that face was looking back at her again, narrowed eyes and blood-red lips. She was still a pale imitation of the Firebird in Mr. Kaiser’s painting, but even if she didn’t have that power, she could fake it. If she acted like she was made of fire, maybe no one would risk burning themselves. Another performance.

She ran down to the empty practice room. Shielding her eyes from the early morning sun, Katrine slipped out the window and started for the river. She was buying a boat ticket to Trost.

* * *

Mr. Kaiser came for her a month later. She was surprised it took him so long.

It was easy to adjust to the training corps. The instructors liked to barrage them with insults and corporal punishments, which was nothing new. But she wasn’t going to let them treat her like Mr. Kaiser, and she traded laps and hauling logs for snapping back. It was worth it, though, because in a few years she would graduate and join the Scouts and then find wherever that better world was hiding. If Mitras Company used her, she would use the Scouts.

She watched the instructors and the male cadets with a mistrustful glare, waiting for a wandering eye or an invasive hand. She had no way of telling if they had ulterior motives. Eventually they came to accept that she was strange, terse and rude, an older woman wearing lipstick who refused to explain why she’d ran away from Mitras. They watched with curiosity from afar when Instructor Voth accompanied a well-dressed man to the training fields, causing the normally brash Katrine to stiffen.

“I think you’ve made your point for long enough, Katrine. You can come back now,” Mr. Kaiser said once Instructor Voth had left them alone in his office. He said it in a pleasant tone, like he was lovingly chiding a naughty child, but she heard the angry undercurrent. He never tolerated disobedience.

“I’m not coming back.” 

He shook his head. “You’re going to ruin yourself here. Already your shoulders are broader.”

She shrugged. “ODM.” She might have joined the training corps sooner if she’d known about the ODM gear. It was magical. She’d been wrong when she thought she could fly when she danced; this was what allowed her to soar through the air for miles, so far above anyone who’d try touching her. She was proud of the bruises the gear’s harnesses left on her legs.

“What?” Mr. Kaiser wrinkled his nose. “Never mind. Don’t you know you’re the most talented ballerina I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching? Your Firebird was a masterpiece. All our efforts, just to be eaten by a Titan? It’s a shame what happened to that girl, but I can assure it will never happen again.”

He couldn’t even say Victoria’s name! All his flattery was meaningless. And how could he assure that it wouldn’t happen again? What was he going to do, stand in the corner while a patron had his fun?

“Better to die by a Titan than by one of you.” 

His hand, empty and powerless without his cane, twitched. But he held on to his facade. “No one would ever hurt you. You’re worth so much more.”

How dare he lie to her face! They’d already hurt her, he knew that! “I’ll break all my toes before any of you touch me again,” she snarled.

“Be silent! It’s time to leave.” He stepped forward. Katrine’s hand flew to her waistband and in an instant the knife was in her hand and pointing at his throat.

Mr. Kaiser stopped, but his kindly expression vanished, replaced by a bitter scowl. “You wouldn’t.”

He was right. She wouldn’t. But there was only one way to scare him off. Katrine flipped her wrist and drove the knife to her head, slicing open her temple. A hot stream of blood poured down her cheek. The sting felt good.

“Your  _ face! _ ” he screeched. “You’ve gone absolutely mad! I taught you to handle pressure!”

“Aren’t diamonds made from pressure?” she quoted back at him.

“Don’t kid yourself! You aren’t a diamond. You’re just broken glass waiting for someone to step on you.” Mr. Kaiser stepped back, his face contorted into ugly hatred. “I should never have wasted my time here. All that work I poured into you, worthless. You may be talented but you will never be great. Someone who cannot be molded will never be great. You will die in the jaws of a Titan and regret throwing your life away over someone else’s mistake.”

“I’m going to die far away from here,” she said, wiping blood away from her eye, “and when you die I won’t waste a single thought on you.”

Mr. Kaiser stalked to the door, and opened it, but turned before leaving. Instructor Voth stood outside, wide-eyed. “Just because you wear red doesn’t mean you can ever become the Firebird. Without me, you will amount to nothing.” He slammed the door before she could respond.

Katrine flicked a spray of blood on the floor, furious. She wanted to strangle him and see those purple bruises around his neck. She didn’t need him, didn’t need anyone, and would be perfectly great all on her own.

She rushed out the door, past Instructor Voth and other shocked faces gaping at her oozing wound, and began to plan how to get a pair of pointe shoes so she could dance better than Mr. Kaiser could ever teach her. 


	13. Chapter 13

_ Year 850 _

It was shockingly easy to strike a human skull. Nothing at all like dragging a sword through a Titan’s thick skin. Katrine lowered her arm slowly, grip loose on the candlestick, and exhaled. The swirl of hatred that had been storming in her chest for years finally calmed. But blood started to bubble from his wound and panic raged up in its place. 

“Fuck!”

Mila snapped from her shock and jumped back, knocking a book to the floor. “Is he dead? He’s dead! You _ killed _him!”

Katrine dove forward and pressed two fingers to Isaac’s neck. No, Lucian, that old name turned her mouth sour. He must have changed it - or was Lucian his last name the whole time? Of course many patrons were still alive, but they were supposed to remain in Mitras, their hunting ground! She felt a weak pulse. 

“He’s alive! We need to get him out of here before someone catches us.”

Mila pointed a shaking finger at Lucian. “Was this part of the plan? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“No! Does this look like a plan?” She had an unconscious body, a nearly hysterical Mila, and her own torrent of fury and fear blocking her ability to think. She slapped her forehead.

“But what did he _ do? _” 

“Not now! Please! We need to get him out!” Her voice rose and she had to remind herself to remain calm.

Mila straightened, now focused. “The laundry cart’s outside. But where?”

“To headquarters. He can’t stay here.”

Mila nodded and opened the window. After checking the courtyard, she slipped outside.

Katrine turned back to Lucian. He hadn’t shifted. She pressed her fingers to his neck again, biting against her repulsion. He was alive, and she was shamefully relieved. But it was better this way, so he could answer her questions. She grabbed his cloak and braced her shoulders, ready to drag him to the window, and pulled. He didn’t budge. She grit her teeth and tried again, but still nothing. Swearing under her breath, Katrine berated herself for still being so weak and the Cult for fattening up a man who deserved nothing but bones picked over by vultures.

Mila crawled back through the window. “No one’s outside.”

“Good, help me move him.” Katrine pointed to his shoulders and moved to his legs. Mila bent and grasped the fabric, and with barely any assistance dragged him to the window. _ Thank you, Mila, thank you, I owe you. _ Lucian remained unconscious. Had there been a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, when she said his old name? She hadn’t noticed.

The two hoisted Lucian’s body out the window and into the cart, covering his body with a forgotten bedsheet. The sky had darkened and a light drizzle fell into her palms. Katrine made sure her head was still covered and motioned for Mila to do the same, and they started back for headquarters. The streets were deserted and slick with rain.

“Why did you hit him?” Mila hissed.

“Not now,” Katrine whispered, panting. 

“Tell me! Don't you trust me?”

“I do!” Her voice cracked. “But I can’t!”

“Later! Promise me!” Mila turned from checking alleyways to face her. There was fear in her eyes, too, that she didn't deserve, and Katrine looked back at the lump under the bedsheet to remind herself of her mission.

“Yes, I promise!” She didn’t think she could, but that was unimportant at the moment. Right now she had to get Lucian alone.

They snuck into the compound through the back entrance, stopping in shadows to avoid the occasional Scout until they reached the stairs to the supply building’s basement. It was a damp, moldy room, one that always leaked when it rained and held broken tools that some pack rat determined might be useful someday. Perfect. After making sure no one was watching, Katrine and Mila lifted Lucian out of the cart and dragged him down the steps and through the door, depositing him on the cold concrete. The air was metallic and choking. Combined with her pounding heart, Katrine felt dizzy.

She turned to Mila, who stared warily at Lucian. “You have to get out of here. Take the cart.”

“But I can help you.”

“Look…” Katrine wrung her hands. “It’s not safe for you here.”

“What are you doing, Katrine? Why are you acting so weird? You can’t almost kill a priest and not explain it to me.” Mila’s words were measured but Katrine felt the concern behind them. Her voice echoed off the walls and Katrine’s eyes darted to Lucian to see if he’d moved. She didn’t want him to wake and put his hands around Mila’s neck, too. She couldn’t know. Nobody could know. 

“You have to trust me. Please.” There was a humiliating quiver she couldn’t hide. Needles stung behind her eyes and she bit her tongue to keep herself from crying. Not here, when somebody was watching.

Mila was silent, biting her thumbnail. Her brow furrowed. Katrine’s teeth chattered, the wait agonizing. She moved to grab at her hair and remembered it was still piled atop her head.

“Fine,” Mila said slowly, like she hadn’t quite made up her mind.

“I’ll explain later. I promise. But don’t tell anyone,” Katrine said in a rush.

Mila nodded, and with one last glance at Lucian, turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Now Katrine was alone with the murderer.

Watching Lucian in the dim light of a dusty window, she tossed off her cloak. After searching the junk for something to bind him, she tied his wrists with a rat-bitten rope. He didn’t stir, though he still had a faint pulse and regular breathing. With nothing left to do, Katrine sat on the floor and pulled out her knife.

There were so many ways to kill him. Quickly, with a slash to the throat, or slowly, flaying off slivers of skin one at a time. He owed more than a pound of flesh, more than a gallon of blood. She could even strangle him herself, garrot him, leave her mark on his neck. His blood would drench her skin, the way it did after she slashed into Titans and watched their bodies fall to the ground, when she felt powerful and unstoppable and allowed herself to slip into the fantasy where she did the same to him.

She could start whenever she wanted. If she stuffed a rag in his mouth, who would hear? But her legs were leaden. She jabbed the point of the blade into her knee, sending a jolt of pain and a drop of blood down her leg. _ I’ll kill him later. After he answers my questions. _

Lucian’s breathing was too even, too relaxed. He should be terrified. He should have been trembling in fear, anticipating the moment when someone would pin him down and tear at his clothes. Maybe she should rip that sanctimonious white tunic off him. Maybe she could ask him how easy it was to kill someone. It had to be, as effortless as sweeping her arms up and into the spotlight. Now there really were blades exploding out her wings.

He suddenly groaned and she sprang to her feet. His eyelids fluttered, then cracked open, and after he struggled for a moment against the rope, he moaned again.

“Wha-” He coughed, a trail of spittle hanging from his lips. “What...do you want?”

Katrine didn’t answer. She didn’t move.

“Please!” He hoisted himself up to a sitting position. There was a pathetic red mark on the side of his face from the cement. “I’ll pay you. Whatever you want.”

The irony almost made her laugh out loud. “Don’t want it. Do you remember me?”

Lucian squinted, then slowly shook his head. 

She scowled. He should have known. But she wasn’t the important one. “It’s not about me. This is about Victoria Radfield.”

His skin, already wan, paled further.

“You killed her. Don’t deny it, I was there. I saw what you did.”

Lucian nodded, his lower lip trembling. _ What the fuck does he have to be upset about? _ Her grip around the knife tightened and she pointed it at him. “I’m going to kill you.” 

His eyes rolled upwards, white and glassy. “Yes, Sina, you told me…” he croaked. “My repentance would come…”

“You’re not talking to your Walls! You’re talking to me!” she screeched. _ Calm, calm, be calm. _ She was taught to be calm at both Mitras Company and the training corps, and she still couldn’t do it.

“My penance! My sins!” Tears dripped down his cheeks as he shifted to his knees. “Fasting and flogging every anniversary! For my indulgences in the passions of the flesh and my wrath-”

“Shut up!” What was he blabbering about? Every anniversary? He wasn’t allowed to memorialize Victoria like Katrine did, see her turning corners in the marketplace and melting into shadows, or resist falling asleep at night or risk being woken up by dreams of bloody hands and bruised necks. She didn’t need the knotted ropes priests flagellated themselves with. She could do that all in her head.

“If this is where they have decided I meet my end, I accept it. I have been a pestilence on this earth for far too long. Glory to Maria, to Rose, to Sina…” Eyes squeezed shut, he muttered an incantation, lips rapidly forming the words.

Katrine lunged for him and pressed the knife to his throat. “Say her name. It’ll be the last thing you say before you die. Now!”

His eyes snapped open. There was no fear in them, the same dull hazel eyes that stared not at her but beyond her. But instead of flat death there was only acceptance and a few tears leaking into the deep creases at the corners.

“Victoria Radfield. Forgive me,” he said in a clear voice.

She tried to move her arm forward to slice his neck. But it wouldn't respond. _ Do it! _ her mind screamed, but her hand only trembled. The knife shook against Lucian’s neck, causing the little hairs to stand up, but no blood oozed out his pale skin. She stepped back, panting hard. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room and she stumbled a bit, woozy.

_ What is wrong with you _, Katrine demanded of herself. But what was going to happen if she killed him? The priests could find out it was her, hunt her down, and trap her in a cage so tiny they’d have to break her legs to fit her inside, and then what would they do? Her mind whirred and a group of men materialized behind Lucian, all in the same white tunic but with the faces of patrons she’d tried to banish but came screaming back up in her nightmares, their fingers probing her flesh and pulling her hair and jamming inside her mouth and between her legs She grasped the knife so tightly her knuckles were white and stinging.

“You’re not real,” she tried to say but the words remained trapped in her throat. Lucian didn’t react. He’d shut his eyes again and gone back to his whispered prayers.

_ You’re a coward, and the only person you’ll ever kill is Victoria _. Mr. Kaiser’s voice floated over the apparitions of the patrons, standing behind them with his cane in his hand. 

“I am _ not _,” she insisted, and Lucian stopped.

The door slammed open and Katrine yelped. The knife clattered to the floor.

“What the hell is this?” His face was obscured by the shadows, but Katrine knew that scathing voice. _ Shit, shit, shit! _ Why was Levi there in all her most humiliating moments? She’d thought it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong, again.

“Get out! This doesn’t concern you.” Katrine tried to sound authoritative but her voice shook as she bent to retrieve the knife.

Levi stepped into the light and she couldn’t bear to look at his face and see just how appalled he was. “It does, actually, because did you even think about where you’ve brought this priest?” 

Her chest flared. He was right, it was stupid to bring Lucian to a Scouts compound. But that didn’t matter, he’d been unconscious. He couldn’t possibly know where he was. “It’s under control.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Please, sir! I beg of you!”

Levi leveled Lucian with a withering look and he immediately clammed up. Katrine ground her teeth. No one was ever that intimidated by her, even with a weapon in her hand.

“So, now, what exactly did he do to make you think he deserved to be kidnapped?” He used that same tone of voice when he thought she’d done a sloppy job cleaning, or when she said something he found especially stupid, that belittling tone that made her feel like an insect. She simultaneously wanted to throw her knife at him and hide in one of the rotten crates.

“It’s for questioning. Or have you forgotten already why we went to Stohess?”

Lucian let out a small gasp of understanding and Katrine’s stomach sank. It was clear enough evidence of her mistake, ignoring Levi’s icy stare. She dragged the contents of the letter back into her mind to regain the upper hand.

“What does the Cult mean by ‘experiments?’” she asked Lucian.

“I- I don’t know-”

“‘The repair of the wall was a perfect time to test the effectiveness of the hardening solution, which exceeded expectations thanks to the tireless research of _ Father Lucian! _’ What are you studying, Father?” 

He appeared shocked to have the Cult’s words quoted back at him, but he quickly shook his head. “Only the damage done to the wall by the Titan-”

“‘Of the subjects gathered, four tested well, though regrettably the remaining twelve’ - who are the twelve, Lucian?” Her voice strengthened. 

Lucian’s eyes dropped to the ground. “Little saints, returned to Sina-”

“Stop the bullshit, if you don’t tell me your holy Walls won’t be able to save you!” If Lucian was involved, it was too possible that this twelve consisted of twelve people, twelve girls, twelve Victorias.

Levi stepped forward and Katrine twitched at the abrupt movement. “This is pointless! What’s your plan here?”

She waved the knife in Lucian’s direction. “He’s a murderer, and now he’s going to pay his debt. That’s the plan.” She thrust the knife under Lucian’s nose. “Who’d you kill? Tell him!”

“Victoria Radfield!”

“And you killed those twelve, too!”

Lucian began sniveling. “Those innocent little children…” Fat tears dripped onto the cement. 

Katrine turned to Levi with an outstretched hand to indicate that yes, this was the right thing to do, but her confidence faltered when she saw that his expression had changed. His eyes shifted to Lucian, and then back to her, but they were clouded over as if he was lost in a distant memory. It was like he’d read everything that had happened on her face and could see her weeping over Victoria’s stony hand. Suddenly she was naked and shivering again. But his eyes cleared and reverted back to scorn just as quickly.

“You think killing him will make it better?” His voice was quiet.

“Of course! It can’t make it any worse.”

Levi barked out a laugh. It was an ugly sound, cruel and mirthless. “It can,” he said, and she stepped back. “Much worse.”

How did he know? She’d heard the rumors but confronted with the hard reality of it, Katrine’s skin turned prickly. What could possibly be worse? Her hands, stained with real blood? Lucian’s ghost trailing her like Victoria’s? She’d be a murderer, just like him, and what if someone worse caught her and strung her up by her neck, before she’d even found that better place outside the Walls? Her stomach roiled. The rage she’d cared for over the years, tended like a blaze, was drenched by her cold fear until there was nothing left but dead coals. No matter how she tried to stoke it, remembering Victoria’s broken body and bruised neck, the ashes were as cold as the blade of her unused knife.

“So, Katrine, what’s it going to be?” 

She tried to grasp at her anger again, but it vanished like smoke. “I’m thinking.”

“You’ve been standing here this whole time and you haven't figured it out?”

“Shut up! Let me think!” Lucian whimpered under the threat of her knife. _ He thinks I’m weak, _ she realized. Her head throbbed. The little silver mirror in her pocket weighed a thousand pounds.

“How long’s this gonna take you?

“Fuck off, Levi!”

Lucian cried out. “Please! In Mitras-” 

“Shut up!” Her arm slashed across his face, a streak of red blooming at his right eye. Blood splattered across her face and burned her eyes. She shrieked, stumbling backwards, and the knife dropped to the floor as she slapped her hands over her mouth. She could taste hot metal on her lips.

Lucian collapsed, howling and writhing in pain.

Katrine’s body turned numb when she realized she’d screwed up, badly, and that she really was a pathetic failure, a yellow-bellied coward. Levi knew that before she did. Mr. Kaiser was right, she really was a broken thing waiting for someone to step on her, and Victoria would agree-

Levi’s hand darted out and seized her bicep; she hadn’t noticed him move closer. She gasped so hard it almost tore her throat in half. It felt like she’d singed herself touching a pot over a fire, or more like it had reared up and grabbed her.

“Hey! You-”

“Don’t _ touch _me!” She tore her arm out of his grasp and sprinted out the door and up the stairs into the cold rain.

* * *

As he dragged the priest to the other side of Trost, eyes sweeping the streets and his body settling into its old habits, Levi couldn’t remember quite how long it’d been since he’d cleaned up a mess like this.

He’d torn off part of Lucian’s tunic and wrapped it around the wound, tying another rag around his mouth to muffle the moaning, and hoisted him up and out of the basement. The courtyard was empty, the only light from the moon and its weak reflection in black puddles. Katrine’s subordinate had vanished. He’d jumped her as she stood outside the stairwell biting her fingernails, accosting her with questions about why they’d dragged something that looked suspiciously like a body to the basement. She’d made a valiant effort but wilted under his threats, despite the fact that she was a head taller.

Levi had considered killing Lucian. That way nothing would get out about Katrine’s misadventure. But then there would be a dead Cult priest, and who knew if Katrine kept her head down during her mission. He imagined her blowing into the church, tossing goblets to her subordinate and reading the priests’ letters aloud, laughing all the while. He rolled his eyes. Better to set this straight himself. Also, it seemed wrong to eat someone else’s prey.

He grimaced as the rain splattered onto his forehead and he forced Lucian to hobble faster. What a shitshow. This was so clearly unplanned, a lucky coincidence. But the expression that crossed her face was all too familiar. He’d seen it many times in the Underground, the dark shadow of loathing and despair that could only be chased away by revenge, by claiming an eye for an eye and something extra just to prove you could. This was something she’d been dreaming of for years. She’d probably imagined it happening much differently, though.

Once they were a sufficient distance away from the compound, Levi threw the priest to the ground. Lucian fell into a puddle, splashing Levi’s boots, and his nose twitched. “Your wallet. Give it to me.”

Lucian reached a trembling hand inside his bloodstained gown and threw out a sack of coins. It clinked across the cobblestones and Levi instinctively calculated its weight.

“This,” he said, bending to pick up the pouch, “was a robbery. Unfortunately, you were a very appealing target. Things have gotten desperate around here.” It was a little heavier than he’d thought. Maybe he was losing his touch.

Lucian bobbed his head. Levi’s shoulders relaxed. Pathetic. The last one back at Grand Boulevard had played dead and then lashed at his throat with a ten-inch blade. It was a miracle the priest hadn’t pissed himself yet.

“If you talk, I will hear about it, and then I’ll kill you. And unlike her, I keep my word.”

Lucian nodded.

“Go,” Levi said, waving his hand. 

The priest remained motionless, his eyes wide. “Thank you,” he croaked.

“_ Go, _” he repeated in a sharper tone, and the man scrambled to his feet and dashed away. Strange, being thanked for not becoming a monster and only robbing him. Or was it for not letting Katrine kill him? No, he hadn’t done anything. There hadn’t been any need. But she’d made enough mistakes that she was lucky the priest was too chickenshit to bolt. That rope was so rotten that he could have easily broken free. And between his sobbing and her screeching was unbelievable no one had come running.

Once Lucian was out of sight Levi turned back. The rain had soaked through his shirt and he shivered. Luckily he hadn’t been wearing his Scouts jacket, and neither had she, so hopefully Lucian had no idea who’d kidnapped him. Stupid of her to bring him to the Scouts compound. Another rookie mistake. He reached around and touched the hilt of her knife at his belt, cleaned of blood and just as sharp as the day he’d given it away. He’d forgotten her face but never that knife, and occasionally the unanswered question of why he’d been so quick to hand it over floated through his mind. Kenny had always said the first slash should kill. He’d be disappointed his knife was used in such a failure.

Levi was thoroughly chilled by the time he reached the compound, thinking of all the ways he was going to chew her out. Whatever her revenge was, it didn’t matter. She’d endangered them all with her stupidity. And what could a priest have done to deserve such rage? 

First came her room, door ajar and belongings strewn across the floor, but empty. He checked under the bed, too, just in case. Then came the closet on the third floor, the empty one no one used because the door always stuck. He was itching to fix it, but there were higher priorities.

He climbed the stairs to the flat top roof and wondered if he’d have to walk all the way out past the gate and into the woods where the training platforms were. He really didn’t want to do that, because that meant admitting he knew there was a reason to go there.

Levi pushed open the door and scanned the roof. Empty. Katrine was too good at making herself scarce when she could have been strengthening her sword arm. 

Just then there was a noise, a little cough or a sniffle. Caught. But a small weak part of him thought that she wasn’t meant to be found, the part of him that didn’t want to throw a knife at a rat when Kenny ordered or kick a boy in the teeth because he had the curse of turning himself into a Titan. But, he was used to ignoring it.

He stepped around the chimney. There she was, resting her forearms on the railing and grinding the toe of her boot into the concrete. She didn’t turn, oblivious to his presence, staring into the darkness at something he couldn’t see. He realized she wasn’t resting her forearms on the railing, but rapping them, hard enough that it made a noise.

“Katrine.”

She jumped a foot in the air, snapping her head around, her shoulders tensing and fingers curling into claws.

“What?” Her voice was choked. Damp strands of hair were plastered to her forehead, little cracks in her lifeless skin. Her eyes, wide and rimmed with red, held the same spooked expression he’d seen back in that abandoned village, the one he’d forgotten because it seemed so unnatural on her. But this was worse, so much worse, and his guilt came flooding back though he had no idea what he was supposed to feel guilty for. 

“Dropped him by the gate. Told him it was a mugging gone wrong.”

She nodded stiffly. There were angry red welts on her wrists. 

“Thought you’d want this,” he said, holding up the sack of coins. _ Stupid! Why would she want this now? _

Katrine snatched the purse out of his hand and tore it open. She poured the coins into her hand and scowled as if she were angry that it held more than she expected. After a small shake of her head, she pocketed the coins and hoisted herself on the railing to hurl the pouch into the darkness.

He folded his arms and waited for her explanation.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped.

Levi sighed and leaned against the railing, cold metal pressing into his back. He set his gaze forward, counting the bricks on the chimney but watching her in his periphery.

“You’re still looking at me.”

“Quit being cagey. What’d he do?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t kill someone over nothing,” he lied.

She didn’t answer and went back to tapping her forearms on the railing. It was like she was trying to snap her wrists. The sound was burrowing itself into his brain and setting his teeth on edge.

“Stop doing that.” He extended his hand, but before he could touch her she leapt back again, fear running wild in her eyes. One hand flew up to shield her face while the other grasped the railing as if she would rather throw herself off the roof than let him touch her.

“Katrine-”

“Do you really want to know? Do you?” she shouted, her voice slicing through his skin. “That man, that _ monster, _ killed Victoria because she wouldn’t let him _ fuck _her!” He saw her teeth flash, an animal ensnared in a trap ready to tear off its leg. “Don’t tell me you can’t kill someone over nothing, because all of those men could and they act like nothing ever happened!”

He opened his mouth despite having nothing to say, but she was unstoppable.

“You know what it’s like? It’s like someone came down to my shitty little hole underground and told me that I’d been invited to the most beautiful banquet. Only for the _ elite. _ Me, that dirty little runt in the mud? But they said I was special, I was important!” She jabbed a finger at her chest, voice turning saccharine. “And then they whisk me away and I spend years getting ready, years making myself perfect. But you know what I find out when I finally get there?” She didn’t stop for an answer. “It’s _ me! _ I'm the food! They stuck me on a plate so they could rip my skin off and tear my limbs out and get their fill of me, and then they spit me out the floor like I never even existed! And then I had to put myself back together and do it all over again!"

Every word she spoke was true. Levi knew. He understood what she’d been without her saying the horrible word. They’d done the same to his mother, eating away at her flesh until there was nothing left but dry skin and brittle bones. She’d told him they were her guests, men who were to never lay eyes upon him, and she tucked him away in her armoire when they came and he heard them make her laugh and scream and cry.

He realized she’d stopped speaking and was shuddering like a desperate leaf clinging to a dead branch and he had to say _ something _, but what was he supposed to say?

“But you had the knife.” She had done something, she’d tried. It was the only thing that came to mind. But then her face crumpled and he immediately wanted to bite his tongue off. Stupid, again.

“I didn’t use it, because I’m not like you! I’m just a coward! I told Victoria to fight back even though I was too afraid, and that’s why she died! It’s like I strangled her with my own two hands!” She swiped at her blotchy face and took a breath that made it sound like she was drowning. He’d never actually seen her cry, not when an errant grapple sliced her cheek in a training exercise, not when Titans cleaved soldiers in half right in front of her, not when he’d banished her to Utopia. The spotless Katrine that shrugged off the dirt and stench of the Underground, the one he watched for hours trying to understand how she did it, was gone and replaced by a scraggly, shivering creature. It was all wrong. His chest creaked like the air had abruptly turned frosty.

“And then I ran away and left them all behind because not only am I a coward, I’m selfish, too! I couldn’t kill him because I don’t want to be the same as him! Don’t tell me that’s not selfish.” She laughed humorlessly. “And what would the Cult do if they found out it was me? I couldn’t do it.” Her arms dropped to her sides. The rage was withering away and she looked like she could collapse if he said the wrong thing. He didn’t know who Victoria was, what went on in Mitras behind closed doors, but he didn’t need to know. She’d traded one monster for another. 

“So that’s why you left?”

She shrugged, attempting to be indifferent, but it was too forced to fool him. “It was a long time ago.”

“I’m...sorry.” He was painfully aware of how small and ineffective his words were.

She shook her head once, sharply. “You had it worse.”

“You-”

“Don’t argue with me! You had it worse!”

Levi didn’t think suffering was something that could be measured out and compared. But it was clear by her folded arms and bitten lips that she was not going to elaborate further, and while he also had no intentions of explaining his own past, he wondered what she assumed made his so much more unbearable. She never spoke of Mitras and gave trite answers when anyone pried, so he had to go off of rumors, too. She claimed she’d never dance again, that the entire thing was artificial and forced, but he knew that was untrue yet would say nothing to avoid being caught.

“It’s easier than you think,” he said. “To kill someone. But you can never wash it off.”

She looked down, digging her nails into her arms. “What did you mean? That it can make it worse?”

Levi had killed the man who owned his mother’s brothel. It was a similarly lucky coincidence; he’d had the misfortune of swindling someone who could afford to pay Levi to dole out his punishment. He’d slit the man’s throat and for one perfect moment everything was alright. But then the man collapsed with no recognition in his eyes and it was all the same again except there was one less unfortunate soul in the world and there was blood staining his clothes because he’d been emotional and sloppy. His mother hadn’t come back. Kenny hadn’t either. He couldn’t tell Katrine that, though. No one could know.

“You can’t take it back afterwards.” A shattered teacup could not hold liquid again, cruel words could not be unspoken, and some wounds could not be staunched. “And they like to follow you around.”

She scoffed weakly. “Even people you don’t kill do that.”

They fell silent, the only noise the light patter of rain hitting the concrete. Katrine shuffled to the brick chimney and leaned against it, pulling her hair out of the ratty mass atop her head. It fell down over her shoulder, surrounding her like a shield. _ There. _ There was the girl he’d found that night in Mitras, tired shadows staining her face. It was the same look that haunted everyone who lived Underground, shackled by their exhaustion and fear. Somehow she’d tricked him into thinking it was gone, that she’d never carried those chains in the first place.

“Why was the priest talking about Mitras?” Levi asked.

Katrine shuddered, and the fingers running through her hair froze. “Not going to Mitras,” she muttered. For a moment Levi pictured locking the gates of Mitras shut and razing it to the ground. It couldn’t be that much of a loss.

“Did he say anything else?”

She shook her head. It was possible the priest had said something that she didn’t want to tell him, but it wasn’t worth prying. Lucian was clearly devout and had the ability to kill, but that didn’t mean he was smart enough to plan anything nefarious.

Katrine started tightly braiding her hair, eyes narrowed and lips set in a thin line. Her fingers were tense and white. If there was some way he could relieve her of some of the pain, he would do it, though he had no idea how. Pain was something he was used to and he didn’t like the sight of it on her face.

“I can find him. If you want. He couldn’t have gone far.”

She smiled, a melancholy smile that reminded him that he was still small and weak, that same smile his mother gave him as she shut the door to the armoire. 

“It’s not your problem.”

The rain was dying, now a soft drizzle that made the air feel thick and fuzzy. Katrine finished braiding her hair and pushed herself off the wall, spine straightening. Her expression turned detached, back to normal, like nothing had ever happened. But she was still too pale. For some irrational reason he thought that angry red slash at her lips made her look more alive.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll cut your eye out, too. I mean it. Don’t go running your mouth this time.” Her tone was resolute.

Levi rolled his eyes. Back to threats she couldn’t keep. But he wouldn’t. And besides, there was no reason for Erwin to know this time. “I won’t.”

She twisted her lips, her shoulders creeping forward. “Sorry I left you with all that.”

He shook his head. “What are you going to do now?”

Katrine threw up her hands. “Don’t know. Find another church, I guess. Or I’ll just leave.” At that she turned and walked away.

“Seriously.”

“I am serious,” she said over her shoulder without stopping. A second later she was gone. He thought to call out to not do anything stupid, but she wouldn’t heed it anyway.

Without the patter of rain, the rooftop became eerily quiet. Levi shuddered, probably because he was damp and smelled too much like dirty water, but he couldn’t force his feet to move because his head was too busy asking questions Katrine wouldn’t come back to answer. 

It made sense now, her abrasive demeanor and why she reacted so strongly to being touched. She acted like every man had bad intentions. But he still didn’t know why she seemed to think that he was different, that she found him worthy to see the darkness clinging to her heart like tar. She’d let him see through the performance when he’d given her no reason to trust him. And why did she dance for no one when she seemed so determined to force everyone to look at her?

Unthinking, he raised his hand to his mouth and touched his lips. It certainly didn’t explain that, either.

Levi turned to the moon. The stars were growing brighter behind the dissipating clouds. The first time he’d seen it, he’d let himself think that things might get better, that being able to see the sky meant he could learn to fly. It was untrue, obviously, and he’d been indulgent to let himself consider it. He and Katrine both knew all too well the bitter agony of clawing your way up out of hell to realize you were still stuck on the ground.

* * *

She’d finally shocked him, said something that shook the indifference off his face. But why did she feel so awful?

Katrine sat with her knees to her chest, swallowed by blackness in the little closet no one used because the door always stuck. Her damp clothes made her shiver, but she didn’t feel like she deserved warm ones. Why had those words come spilling out of her? Had exhaustion dulled her senses? She’d done just fine pretending like she was a well-bred, unsullied retired ballerina from Mitras looking to do something meaningful with her life until Lucian came slithering out of whatever crevice he’d been hiding in. _ You couldn’t even control your tears. _ Her eyes began to itch again.

And why _ him? _ How was a man ever going to understand? She’d told no one, not even Mila. Even if keeping it buried didn’t make it any less true, it made things easier. And she couldn’t trust Levi with something so horrible, not with what he’d done last time. Now he probably thought she was more of a worthless idiot than he already did. He certainly thought she was dirtier. Why had she thrown off her armor and let him peer into her broken soul?

Katrine felt hollow, like she’d been scraped clean of poison, but she was exposed, too. A hidden part of herself was gone, one she’d given to him without even realizing. But Levi’s expression flashed behind her eyes, despite the fact that all she hadn’t tried to focus on him. It wasn’t disgusted. It might have been sorrowful.

She sighed and rubbed her brow. If there was anyone’s face she should be thinking of, it should be Victoria’s. She’d be disappointed. If their fates had been reversed, Victoria wouldn’t have hesitated. Victoria would have extracted every last bit of information from that priest and then gutted him like the pig he was. 

Lucian had said something, though. Remembering him describe children as “little souls” sent a wave of nausea up her throat. Did that relate to the horrible implications in the letter? Whatever it was, it was in Mitras. It had to be.

She hadn’t been able to kill Lucian, despite all her promises to herself, and she hated breaking a vow. But it would be even worse to let someone like Lucian harm another girl when she already knew the kind of person he was. She’d also promised herself she wouldn’t go to Mitras again, except on her own terms. The idea forming in her mind didn’t exactly break that promise.

Katrine pushed open the door, not caring if she woke anyone with its groaning, and squinted against the first rays of the morning sun. Then she went to wake Elisabeth.

* * *

The Military Police arrived at the Scouts compound early in the morning, just as predicted.

Katrine found the group of unicorn-emblazoned carriages waiting by the gates to the compound, Elisabeth trailing behind her. Figuring the most heavily guarded one held the commander, she marched up and demanded to see him.

“Hold up, no visitors,” one MP said.

“Do you know who she is?” Katrine pointed up at Elisabeth, who stiffened.

The MP squinted, but his eyes widened when he recognized the resemblance. “Are you on orders from Commander Smith?”

“Something like that.”

The MP knocked on the carriage door and poked his head in. After a few muttered words, he cracked the door open wider. Katrine ducked under his arm and, despite his protests, climbed in and plopped down on a velvet cushion. Elisabeth followed and sat primly.

Commander Dok stared down his sharp nose at her, a pinched frown on his face. He looked like he’d just eaten a lemon. Katrine mirrored the look.

“My name is Katrine Casmir, captain of the Cartography Unit, and this is my vice captain Elisabeth Smith, as you are well aware.”

One eyebrow quirked, but he crossed his arms. “This is rather improper, Captain Casimir-”

“In exchange for immunity, I will tell you everything you need to know about Commander Erwin Smith.”

Commander Dok’s mouth dropped open. But he quickly pursed his lips, assessed both of them, and nodded.

Katrine smiled and leaned back into the seat.


End file.
